The Bruce Odyssey
by drewbi6
Summary: A young man and his mates decide to join the Imperial Guard. From what the news and posters say it will be the grand adventure of a lifetime. But they soon learn the grim realities of the universe. -NEW PROLOGUE-
1. Prologue

**This is a new prologue, I felt the old one was too disconnected from the rest of the story, this one however is closer. If you are new to this story then I hope you have fun while reading it.**

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Prologue

"Explore the Galaxy! Defend the Imperium! Serve the Emperor!" That was written on the banner beneath a pristine guardsmen standing at attention. Simple, encouraging and one of the better Imperial Guard recruitment posters I had seen. Every time I glanced at it, taking a swig of my quickly draining hip flask, I thought to myself.

What a load of rubbish.

I was currently sitting in the reception area of a clinic, I had been on a waiting list for months to get an opportunity to visit. To make sure I had no assignments on today. To make sure that I'd been free of my duties as a guardsman. I was the only one in the room, there was another person I could hear but that term 'person' was to be debated. A lone servitor typed away at a cogitator. Judging from the serial number tattoo on his forehead he used to be a convict. I felt comfort in the relief he wasn't a guardsman that had exhausted his usefulness and not his life. It made me grimace that anyone I knew could become that. A thoughtless drone made to work until their body disintegrates. Many already view guardsmen that way, the rebels would anyway. The other noise in the room came from the buzzing metal fan. Driving off the stuffy heat which came through the windows. The room itself was bland with grey walls adorned with posters, warning of venereal diseases and praising the Officio Medicae. The only other stand out was the brass Aquila that hung from the doorway. The magazines on the low table were boring and outdated. The latest being today's newspaper, the headline read 'VICTORY ON CHERABOS!' The ticking chrono held the time twenty hours. Or what I would call in Aralan dialect, 'late arvo'. I placed my flask back in my pocket.

I could really go for a meat pie right about now. I was trying to think when was the last time I had one. A true meat pie, not full of corpse starch or other additives that so many others called a 'meat pie'. I mean a true, Aralan, 100% mince meat pie. Just grox mince and gravy held within a gold, flaky pastry crust and held together in a foil pan. Some squirts of sauce and it was just right. The first bite would then be salty and warm as the gravy dripped and it burnt the mouth. The core of the pie being like molten lava. But that was the beauty of it as the steam would emit from that piping hot core on a winters day. Showing its warm interior. Maybe I could get one of the ratlings to try recreate it. Some canned, processed bully beef, corpse starch pastry and that green gravy. I actually don't know what the gravy is made of. The more I thought about it the less I wanted to know how the gravy was made and what it was made from. Even though I've probably eaten much worse.

I deeply miss Mum's cooking.

My nostalgic thoughts of home cooked food were interrupted by the itching sensation in my left arm. I put down my slouch hat and looked down as I rolled up my green uniform. My bionic arm was revealed, being cut bellow the elbow. I scratched at the cross over between flesh and metal. The enginseers and medics said the itching would go away after a few days. That was three years ago. After scraping at my rough skin for a while it eventually went away. Leaving me back to where I was. Sitting alone, in my uniform and the time ticking by. With my slouch hat tucked under my bionic arm and organic arm resting on my lap. Instinctively ready to grab the holstered laspistol at my hip.

"Mr Duwal, Dr Liverance may see you." I looked up to see a young woman, roughly mid twenties with tanned skin, black tied back hair and a nice smile. She wore the standard grey and blue clothing of the settlers of this planet.

"Thank you." I nodded as I passed her, the servitor didn't move its empty gaze as robotic fingers hit the keys.

I reached the wooden door labeled on a bronze plate. I entered to see a man, around his mid fifties with a dark grey beard and balding head. He was behind a wooden desk, the top of which was cluttered in recaff stained paper and various trinkets. In the middle of his desk sat a typewriter. Technology on this planet was sometimes still quite primitive, especially in the regional areas.

"Lieutenant Duwal I assume?" I closed the door behind me and walked over to the empty chair, his office shared a similar vibe of untidiness. It disgusted me.

"First off I would like to say thank you for your service to the Imperium and Cherarbos. I feel much better knowing the heretics are no longer a threat to our planet and myself." His tone was chipper and friendly holding a smile, he soon realised he was not going to change my reaction.

"So why is it that you have come to see me lieutenant?" I placed myself in the creaking chair, putting my hat on my lap and staring at the friendly eyes of the doctor. That's when my thoughts left me.

"Something has been bothering me doctor." I played with my hands as the scribbling of an autoquill could be heard on paper.

"And what is that?" My blood chilled, I felt ashamed at my cowardly behaviour. I had charged into gunfire, gone hand to hand with vile xenos and heretics and had seen vicious mutilation of mind, body and soul. Yet I couldn't talk about one issue of myself.

"Doctor, have you ever lost anyone, but never truly lost them?" His eyes remained blank behind his glasses, his mouth crept open.

"…I" I interrupted him before he finished his long exhale.

"Like a true loved one, someone that when they left you…You just felt, incomplete-" He interrupted me this time round, I was thankful he did.

"So your problem is dealing with loss?" I looked at my metallic hand, tensing and relaxing the cold fingers, still not used to the feeling of when I touched my own skin with it. I nodded, he continued to write this down on the same piece of paper.

"And how long have you had this problem." I pondered to myself, considering how long it had been since that day.

"Over nine years doctor." He continued to write this all down, he stopped and looked at me with a sense of bewilderment as he grabbed his glasses.

"Nine years? That's a long time Lieutenant Duwal, why not get help sooner?" I guess he was unfamiliar with the standard Imperial Guard protocol and decided to fill him in on why.

"Well it's more three years, but that was three years of non-stop fighting. This is the first chance I got to ever talk about it." Those three years I had spent battling the heretics on this planet, he nodded in understanding and wrote something down. He then looked up again, his eyes focusing on my laspistol.

"Do you carry that into battle lieutenant?" He pointed it out with his autoquill, I lifted my hand away and nodded.

"Usually I carry a boltgun into battle, this is more of a backup." He paused and fixed his glasses holding his mouth slightly ajar. I'm not surprised if he was unfamiliar with more advanced Imperial weaponry. He continued to speak.

"And this boltgun, what would happen if you lost it?" I couldn't tell where he was going with this, but I went along with it anyway.

"Fill out the munitorum paperwork and wait for a replacement, while I wait I'll use my chainsword and laspistol for combat." It was at that moment the intoxication of the drink I took earlier was starting to wear off, I reached into my tunic and found my hip flask.

"So you would just let go of it, leave it in the past?" He responded as his eyes followed my flask. I undid the lid and swallowed some more hard alcohol. The hardest I could find. It tasted slightly better with the aftertaste of the last drink. I wiped my mouth before speaking. I was starting to grow impatient.

"Doctor I don't see what this has to do with my problem." I stated as I put my flask back in its pocket in my tunic. The doctor clasped his hands together.

"Lieutenant I am a psychiatrist, not a psyker. I need to know what is wrong with you to help you through it." It was too soon but I already wanted to ingest more alcohol. We both sat there in silence for several minutes. He leant back in his chair as he continued to talk to me.

"Do you not like to talk about what's bothering you?" I stopped, looking at everything but the man that I asked to help me. I reluctantly and slowly nodded.

"Would it be better if you wrote this all down on paper." I paused for a second, eventually I managed to look the doctor in his soft and grey eyes.

"Doctor, if I was to do that it, I'd be handing you a book, a very long book." Maybe I was just delaying the inevitable, but this didn't discourage him as he continued.

"Ok well, how much time do you have?" Orders tend to be given at the last minute, the Astra Militarum had a bad habit of doing that. Some call it a good thing so nobody has enough time to start having doubts.

"Well, currently we're just doing some clean up operations, we could be shipped out at anytime." So far we had no indication we were moving anywhere, Liverance put on a comforting smile.

"Ok, how about you send me it piece by piece and I will look at from there, how does that sound?" I did have the materials and memories, I might need to fill in a few gaps but I could do it. I gave my verdict.

"Good, I guess." He quickly scribbled something down and took another piece, he opened up a file under his desk.

"Ok lieutenant Duwal, write down what is bothering you and send me it piece by piece. Once I get it all I should be able to help you with what's bothering you. Just remember we all lose things lieutenant…" He stopped as his eyes began to become wetter, he stared into his lap.

"The heretics stole my son from me. May the Emperor be with you Lieutenant Duwal." I stood up and gripped the handle, standing in the doorway looking back at the psychiatrist.

"May the Emperor be with you too doctor." I donned my slouch hat and shut the door behind me as I passed the servitor, still clattering away its joyless life. I grabbed my brown greatcoat and opened the door.

"Excuse me sir." I turned to see the woman who invited me in standing behind me, she didn't notice my hand was already on the grip of my laspistol.

"Yes ma'am?" She stood slightly shuffling on the spot, holding her hands at the front of her as she looked up at me.

"Did you fight at Tinggi Bukit?" She was referencing a village which became a large heretic holdout, the place was a cult compound crawling with mutant filth and so-called, blasphemous pleasurable degeneracy. Supporting the heretical insurgents that cowered in the shadows.

"Yes, I did." We stormed the place and raised it to the ground with Hellhounds and flamers, we didn't give mercy to anyone found in that place. The debauched mutant scum understood the Emperor's wrath, and we brought it to them.

"Ok, thank you, I just wanted to know." She turned and went back to her job at filing, I wanted to inquire to her why she asked me about it. Instead I closed the door and threw on my greatcoat.

I was met with the blue sky and orange dirt of Cherabos. A planet built up by a rogue trader and now overseen by the Administratum. The settlements ranged from the large and modern cities to backward and rural villages. It was covered in thick brightly coloured forests, with blue rivers and purple rocks. The colours were brought on by a range of strange anomalies and chemicals brought from comets. My experience at Muana II came in handy in this thick terrain. This settlement was one of the larger towns, surrounded by fertile soil growing cash crops. Being a mixture of rapid industrialisation built on top of backwater buildings. As night was beginning to fall the people of this town packed away as the inevitable curfew would come into effect. The light night breeze was drifting in, ruffling my uniform in the wind. The citizens ignored me, another guardsmen, what's to do with it? These people see guardsmen on a regular basis. Children were ordered inside, shops were packed up and autocarriages were driven into garages. By the time I reached the road heading to the guard camp on the edge of town the only sound that was heard was the howling of nocturnal creatures and brushing of leaves. Sitting beneath a bug infested lamp sat a guardswoman, head first into a magazine with a ciggie hanging from her cracked mouth. Her eyes covered by her unpinned slouch hat.

"Lieutenant." She didn't look up to me when she acknowledged me with an informal salute, she used her feet to hit a button on her desk, the wire gate of the base opened.

"Corporal." I returned the salute to no further reaction, I let myself in past her. Stricter regiments would punish this lacklustre behaviour. Whenever an officer tried that they got reminded this is the Aralan Imperial Force, not the Mordian Iron Guard. Aralan soldiers don't react to well to following regulations to the letter. The gate guard was a very sought after position, as it often lead to high amounts of bribes from men who couldn't get back from brothels before curfew. Or visits from the population giving generous gifts, always left undocumented.

Music and drunk laughter could be heard from the mess as guardsmen of varying regiments enjoyed themselves with chance and grog. Of course alcohol couldn't be brought in, but who said we couldn't brew it on base. Usually I would head there but after what the doctor said I had a sense of urgency to write my issues down. Guardsmen gambled in the shadows and discussed various topics, especially around the recent skirmishes. I was well known amongst the guardsmen here, each knowing something of what I had done. All certainly knew my name and face. The usual story involving the loss of my arm along with my Star of Terra. No one dared not acknowledge me as I walked to my quarters.

I swung open the flap for my tent and hung up my great coat with my slouch hat. I had to share my tent with a two fellow officers. One was probably in a brothel trying to find his wallet while the other was perfecting his brew. I sat down in the metal chair and pulled over my typewriter. That's when I just sat there, looking at the blank page. My hand resting on the keys without any words coming to my mind. I looked at him, looking at me with those friendly eyes and cheeky smile. The picture on the desk was adjacent to a case containing all his medals. Something I still took with me, so he was still with me. I knew he was still out there, I can still find him. I looked under my desk and was happy to see a good bottle of amasec and my brief case was waiting. Taking a few gulps of the sweet liquor I put it down and felt the imagination flowing. I flipped open the brief case to see the slew of various Departmento Munitorum documents, letters, my journal and other primary sources spill out. The initial alcohol failed so I continued to drain the bottle dry and place it with the pile of others. But then it hit me. I knew were to start, all the way back, before the death, before the madness, before the grim darkness of the universe.

It all started all the way back, to one usual day on the planet of Arala.


	2. A call to arms

A call to Arms

23 years later

It was the day before the weekend. The fan buzzed above me, barely taking away the heat under my suit shirt. But I had worked in this job as a bank clerk for a year now so I was used to it. I looked at the time piece, 2 minutes until work is over and I can get pissed with my mates at the tap. I dipped my fountain pen in to the ink and continued filling out the paperwork. It was a boring job but it paid. If I did it long enough I might get promoted to something that got paid a bit more. The bell rang signalling it was time to go, I stood up from my desk and walked with my colleagues to the pigeon holes. As usual our pay waited in envelopes. I slid mine into my shirt pocket. Then I walked through the bank and stepped out of the waiting room into the sun and sand of the planet Arala.

"Where you going Bruce?" Sebastian asked, he was a fellow clerk at the bank, and a mate of mine, but we were all mates here.

"To the tap mate, where else?" I could tell he wasn't coming, he was going the opposite direction.

"Sorry mate, my miss's doesn't want me getting pissed. Seeing there's a little ankle biter crawling around. See you later." I nodded to him and waved, then we went our separate ways. He was now a hard working father and chief clerk of the bank. I walked along the red sandy roads, seeing as my suburb is in the outskirts of Mooro. We didn't have the concrete roads like the inner city. Horse carts moved on the road with the very occasional car. The sun was setting, giving the whole place a blueish hue on the red sky, and it felt a bit cooler but sill very humid. I finally reached the tap, it was a well known corner pub. Like always I was the first one in. And thus I had to buy the first shout.

The place smelt of alcohol and durry, with shouting, laughing and various sounds from the radio on the counter. Round wooden tables stained with sauce and pastry, with a dash of grog scattered about. But we each had a spot, me and my mates near the till.

"What will it be today Bruce?" Eli asked, he was a local celebrity, as he ran the place. He lifted up 5 glasses, revealing his poor quality cybernetic arm. Something he received during his service in the guard. He was out of the few to retire as an imperial guardsman, but he gladly accepted it when it came up.

"Only four glasses mate, Sebastian can't make it." Eli nodded and took one glass off the bar, he then readied for my choice. It was either swan gold or swan lager, since lager was stronger I first went for that, but Ross might need to drive home. Fuck it, I want something strong.

"Shout of Lager mate." He then quickly went to work with the left tap, filling them all up within under a minute. I took them to the table, and waited. It wasn't long before a group of factory workers walked in, one of them being my mate Lance. He worked in the train and car factories. His tanned skin had splotches of black, and his hands where still stained with grease.

"How's it sleeping under cars Lance?" We both smiled, and he sat down, he then took a long sip of the piss then placed it right off the coster. Lance was like the most of us lean and skinny, he had brown hair and eyes and was clean shaven.

"How's stealing money and doodling by yourself wanker?" We then continued to talk about our day in the planet of the Aralaian workforce. I asked him about the custom made car he working on in his back shed with his dad.

"Hey mates. Got something for you lot?" A hand was placed on our shoulders, with the smell of promethium and coal on it. The hand belonged to Bolin, he was descended from an off world family and worked with his brother at the East Mooro power station. I could see his twin brother brother Zhixen at another table with some of the power station workers. They were both lanky with exotic skin and black hair.

"What is it mate?" Louis asked as he took another sip of his lager, Bolin took a gulp of his then went to speak.

"Now who's ready for the weekend mates." Before he could answer Ross put his ass in the seat, with his apron still covered in blood. Ross worked in the abattoir's, he isn't that smart but fucking hell he could mark. We're all in the same footy club. We come here every time we get a chance, and I met most of these mates in school. We even go swimming in the river occasionally. Ross was the tallest, short hair and scrappy beard with the speed of a roo, and could jump just as high.

"Well as I was saying, at the factory some of the diggers came in. They told us about how the 2nd AIF was calling for men to sign up. Here they handed out some leaflets." He took three leaflets out of his backpack, and scattered them on the table. The Aralian Imperial force, or shortened to the AIF, as they are known, was only formed in times of need. The front cover showed an AIF member in a heroic pose. He was holding the planetary flag in one hand, a las-rifle in the other and was standing on a dead xenos. Backed up by a few more diggers. All of them had massive muscles and clean skin. It then had in big words 'The Emperor Calls. Fight for the Imperium.'

"What, are we supposed to look like we bench press cattle…is that part of the requirements?" Bolin joked, it got a chuckle out of us all. We where skinny and lean, all the days of sport made us reasonably fit. Especially compared to the upper class poms. But the men on the cover looked like they had muscles on their muscles.

"Well it says here 'Travel to exotic worlds. Fight for the god emperor. Glory of service awaits.' Ha, I don't know if it's lying or it's telling the bloody truth." Ross read out on the next page, we continued mocking flier and talking about the various quotes. One thing that our planet was proud of was the Aralian Imperial Force. The story is of the men and woman of the planet who rushed to the imperium's help when enemies started to get really aggressive. Eli, my mum and dad where some of those legends, not to mention some of my friends family members. I was happy to follow in their footsteps.

"Mates…I'm not that drunk and I am not mad… I think, but I feel we should join." Lance then showed the page of recruitment stations, and planted it on the table, they stopped. I couldn't help agree with him. Maybe it was the patriotism, or the fact my dad and mum were diggers…or maybe just the piss.

"Lance, You're not even old enough, the only reason Eli let's us drink here is because he doesn't give a shit." I questioned, but I could tell he was being fucking serious, I wasn't old enough either.

"You know, he's fucking right…We should all join together. Go off into the galaxy, see something different for once. Lance if you're going, I'm going with you. Wait, I will ask Zhixen if he wants to come as well." Bolin then left the table and wandered over to his brother.

"If you're going then I'm coming too." Ross said, he then decided to stand up quickly almost knocking the table over, and spilling our drinks.

"You bloody dumb ass…Wait, what about Sebastion?" That was a good point, he had a wife and child now, should we ask him? But seeing that he hasn't been out for the last few weeks, it may be putting him on the spot. It didn't help that his dad was also a digger, but he didn't come home.

"Hey how about we ask Eli and see what he thinks?" I then raised my hand and waved Eli to come to us, he weaved between the patrons and then stopped at our table.

"What? You already downed your bloody grog?" Lance showed him the flier, the barman adjusted his glasses, he then smiled slightly.

"You know, this happened to me 23 years ago. Just like you lot, young and ready to rush off with my mates when the call came…your parents were some of them. I served in the 11th regiment, line infantry with lasrifle and bayonet. We where in a campaign involving the assault of a planet from heretics. We were in bloody trenches going nearly metres from the enemy, I lost some good mates. But they died for a reason. Bruce, your dad was a legend, yours too Ross, and Sebastian's dad was one of the ballsiest men ever. I'm not going to stop you, the imperium needs men like you lot, and I say you may go out kill for the lord, but you may die for him…Now is that all you need." He had the voice of a veteran, and the missing arm to show for it but he lightened up at the end, well now we have a second opinion. I didn't think it was a good idea to ask my parents.

"Yeah I'd like a top up please Eli." Like a fucking dumb ass, Ross just kills the mood like that, I think we should still do it and they all agree.

"Zhixen said he will join, and he will bring the mates. What did Eli say?" Bolin then sat down, he missed the story as Eli was already walking back to the bar with an empty glass.

"Eli basically said go at your own bloody risk so we're still going?" Lance said to the immigrant as he helped himself to another skull of piss and some nuts he just pulled out of nowhere.

"Mates if my mother finds out I am joining, she will hunt me down through the ranks, grab me by my ear and pull me ALL THE WAY back home." My mother was very protective of me, unlike my dad who would encourage me calling me 'brave' and 'manly'.

"Apart from Bruce being such a mummies boy, I say we meet at the Kaleep recruiting station at 2:00 tomorrow arvo, and we all sign up to go into the same group." Lance suggested I agreed with Lance. We then continued to hammer ourselves two hours into the afternoon. We dispersed and headed home for the day. As I had to go in the same direction as Ross, we supported each other. As we staggered up the road Ross slurred.

"Hey Bruce…What about Sebastian? We can't just leave him." I must have forgotten after the 5th shout, but what can we do about it. Can we?


	3. The news

**Hey Everyone, I am trying to keep these updates weekly or earlier, I have several more on the way so see you then. Read on**

The news

'The Emperor has called. Will you answer?' That was the headline on today's newspaper I had in my hand. The radio immediately spouted words about the AIF as soon as I flicked it on, I turned it off and went back to the paper. Later I sat at the dining table with my mum, dad and younger brother Darryl. Darryl was 15. Unlike me he's going through high school. I ate the grain-bix with milk and sugar if I was lucky I would get half a fruit. My dad worked as all purpose labourer. He was descended from one of the traditional settlers before the history books existed. He had dark skin, with black messy hair and beard. He had a metal leg that he would hobble around on. My mum was a typical housewife, did the dishes and laundry all that stuff. Fair skin, dirty and messy blonde hair, and freckles all across her body. The left side of her cheek down to her neck had burns, a scar from her duty. I looked more like dad, Darryl looked more like mum, and he was a few inches shorter than me.

"So Bruce, how's work going?" Mum said as she sat down with her own grain-bix.

"Good, still just sitting doing paperwork." I think I really did just summarise my job just then. I think that was one reason to join the guard, for entertainment. I couldn't tell them that I was joining the guard.

"Any of your mates joining the AIF? It's been a long time since the last formation. In three months you can go." My mum asked. I wondered if any of my parents mates went off underage, it apparently happened a lot during the formation of the first AIF. as recruitment officers had very low standards.

"Yeah all the mates are joining, Eli said that it will be very quiet when we are gone." It induced a laugh from my dad, and a sigh from my mum. Dad was completely fine with me drinking underage but my mum wasn't too keen in case I got the blue healers on me. Or that I would grow up to be like my dad, my mum would kill me if I ended up in trouble.

"I may go into to town today, you boys want to come?" Dad had finished his breaky and stood up to place the bowl in the sink. Due to his prosthetic he moved with a limp. Of course I had plans.

"Nah, I might be going to play cricket with the mates today. Bolin just got a new bat and he would like us to test it with him." I'm not good at lying, but technically this was not a lie. It was a white lie. The recruiting station was at an oval in the city

"Hope you go well Bruce, just be back before 6:30." Again laying down the rules, she will do that to me and Darryl until she goes to the grave.

"Can I come?" Darryl asked as I chewed the last mouthful of grain-bix, I then moved to the sink, dirty bowl in hand.

"Nah, got a rule of no smart asses allowed." Dad gave me a cuff on the back of the head, then went upstairs to get dressed.

After putting on standard clothes, brushing my teeth and visiting the dunny, it was 11:00 o'clock before I was on my bike and off down the road. I started by going down the hill, cutting past the school and around to the highway. After an hour baking in the sun I ended up along the river. I then stopped at one of the popular parts, stripped off down to my undies and had a quick swim. I never got used to the feeling of a jellyfish brushing past my leg, and almost leaping into the air.

There was a particular place I would swim to and then back to the shore. It was the bits of wood poking out of the river. They where the remnants of a bridge that transported supplies across the river. Llike most of the older buildings it dated back to the first settlers. Apparently the planet started off as a penal world, then gradually turned to a semi death/civilised world. However the settlers only arrived over 100 years ago, some arrived over 10 millennia ago before imperial history, before an event known as 'the great crusade'. Apparently there are courses about it in upper school, I just know is what the priest says from the book of scripture.

I rode further, I started to get right into the city, cars became more common, and trams moved about the roads. It started off with the apartments and green parks. Then cinema's started appearing along with the swanky hotels and shops. Places I can't touch on my pay. The recruiting station was at one the best known footy ovals, somewhere the family and I would visit when the footy leagues are playing.

I then stopped, I was about two hours too early. The footy field was covered in khaki tents, showing off some other activities and topped with a tank on the field. I felt like getting a head start so I placed my bike near the racks and just strolled to the entrance. I was met with a very large queue, the type of que that happens at the imperial show, I followed it to a set of stands. The stands had the planetary flag flying, and a banner in big letters 'Sign up now.' Seeing as to not waste my time, I started walking around for some entertainment. Amongst the crowds, I spotted the familiar back of Lance, taking aim at the lasgun shooting range that was set up. I went up behind him, leaning near him. He was concentrating a lot as he couldn't tell that I was right next to him. The targets set up were the cutouts outlines of foul xenos and vile mutants, with holes burned into them by previous shooters.

"BOO!" He jumped firing the lasround off into the distance, missing the target completely, I then started to laugh as he dropped the gun and turned.

"You're a dick Bruce, I was going to hit that!" He hit me in the arm, causing me to laugh even harder. He then presented the lasgun to me.

"Well go on, you try and hit it you cheeky bugger." I took the lasgun off him, then leant on the table and raised the barrel towards the target. I had only used a gun once in my life, when I went to Ross's Uncle's farm, I used a sniper rifle to try and hunt a rabbit. I don't know how but I ended up shooting one of his cattle. He said it was old and going to get put down anyway, but the wound I caused was non life threatening. But a bullet to the brain is cheaper than a vet bill. Continuing to aim, I held my breath, putting the sights over the targets head. Then pulled the trigger. The gun made a crack noise. There was a tiny push against my shoulder with a red laser firing off.

"Hey I think you just took the tip of his ear off…if he was 15 metres closer…and standing completely still." Ross started laughing, I then placed the gun on the table and turned to walk past him.

"Hey I got better than you at least." I defended, it was true that my lasgun aim was completely terrible, but as if they where going to put the best lasguns for shooting wooden cut outs.

"I wasn't scared by the noise…it was turning to see your face." We left the shooting range and started looking around for our mates. One tent was showing off the durability of flak armour, the best armour in the whole galaxy. Another was showing autocannons, modified for the best use of the AIF. Then we came across a group of five power station workers, amongst them where the twins, but no sign of Ross. Where was that eccentric?

"Aye Bruce, Lance you going well? I've not seen you in a while." The voice of Adriano, he had olive colour skin and black hair. He had very close ties to his family, so it surprised me that he was joining the guard.

"Going well wog boy, your parents letting you join?" The others were talking to Lance. The others in the group included Liam, a man I had some bad experiences with, and Jackson, a quietly spoken man coming from a less than privileged upbringing.

"Ah Bruce, they will make a storm if they find out. Why are you here you aren't old enough?" My mum would slap me if I did something bad, but Adriano's mother was not someone to piss off.

"We are in the same boat then mate." I remember when we where walking around the suburb, all smoking and we ran into Adriano's mother. She hated the fact that Adriano was smoking, and dropped her shopping. She threw a slipper at him from at least 50 metres away with perfect accuracy, and I guess could shout three times as far. Wog families, what can I say.

"Hey Bruce, where's Ross?" Zhixen asked, I just shrugged and continued to talk to the others, we then decided to wait for Ross. We walked back to the firing range, to take turns at mocking each others shooting. Then heavy footsteps came from behind.

"Hey *wheeze* mates I *puff* No mate left behind." He had sweat down his forehead, under his arms. With that I can't understand what the hell he was saying.

"Ross, where the fuck where you?" He raised his head, wipping off some of the sweat. We all gathered to see what he was saying.

"I went to ask Sebastion if we wanted to come…he says sorry." It hit me hard, we did pretty much everything together, but I can't blame him. A wife to look after and a little baby girl, and a dead dad. Hearing the news we then filed over to the sign up desk.

"Hey Bruce, I found a job you can do." Bolin pointed towards a set up medical tent that was being shown off by some sister nurses. They had some other over the top name like adeptus-hospitalsomething

"Get fucked mate." Eventually it was my turn to reach the sign up desk, a man wearing an imperial officer's uniform looked up at me.

"Name?" He said it in a very droning voice, very uninspiring.

"Bruce Duwal"

"Next of kin and address?"

"What?" I had never heard of the term next of kin, but just looking at it didn't sound to good.

"Who do you want me to inform when…something happens to you?" Ok that seemed to clear it up.

"Taree Duwal." The name of my father.

"Employment?"

"Bank Clerk."

"Maritial status?"

"Unmarried."

"Prior guardsmen service?"

"None." He wrote all of this down then took the sheet to the side and stamped it, right after he handed me a slip of paper.

"Says the time to turn up tomorrow, what to bring and what to do. Welcome to the guard."

 **See you next time, please review (addictive)**


	4. Lying and mate-ship

**The latest chapter in the ongoing story, I am really enjoying this and I hope you are all as well, I have more chapters ready.**

Lying and mate-ship

'Our holy father, the Emperor and protector has called upon our planet again to come to his aid. Some of you have answered the call before, and gave more than just lives. These men and woman are still remembered to this day in the legend of the first AIF. We now pray to those, rushing to the defence of the throne, a second time. For the emperor.'

It was a great relief to leave the church. It was uncomfortable in the clothes we had to wear, with sweat and the heat. The sun burnt your legs through the tinted windows making your dick on fire. When my parents were guardsmen they said they saw a church as big as this city, how do you make something so big? This church was a big building on it's own. Way larger than anything around it, but not the tallest I've seen. That honours goes to the Saint Theodore cathedral in the middle of Mooro.

"Hey honey I'm just going out with the mates. I will be back in a bit…you boys be good to your mother." My dad then walked out the door, probably to see Eli and the others, or go and sit down at the cemetery or war memorial. My mum would sometimes go with him.

"Don't you get too pissed all right?" I remember when mum told a story of joining with the other girls, her mum said to her 'the guard isn't the place for a daft girl like you!'. I guess I take some of her side of the family.

The recruitment slip said to go the old barracks at 2:00pm. I probably had enough time to get ready, I started packing my old suitcase. The slip said to bring a change of clothes, you could bring some family stuff if you wished. I then wrote a quick note to my family.

' _Dear Family_

 _Hopefully by the time you read this, I would be off already but when you do find this, do not worry about me. I love you all. Mum you keep dad and Darryl out of trouble. Dad, look after the family while I'm gone, make sure that everyone is fed. Darryl, you shut up and grow a pair, but I think you are the best brother I could have. I will see you all soon, ok._

 _Love you all, Bruce'_

I left the note under the family portrait on the mantelpiece in the dining room. The mantle piece had a display case for the medals my mum and dad earned. A picture of the whole family, and an individual picture of each of us. I then turned to leave. Suddenly Darryl stepped in front of me. I went to the left of him, he blocked me, I went right of him, he blocked me. Usually when this happens he has a cheeky smile across his face and I just jab him in the belly. Right now he had a stern look on his face. I then stopped.

"What do you want?" He then stopped and handed me the suit case. He then shook his head, he must of seen me with the note.

"Bruce, this isn't like boy scouts. I saw you yesterday, I could have told mum and dad. But I didn't…your secret is safe for now. Good luck" I walked past him and to the front door, I stopped. Placing the brief case on the ground I then said.

"Pass this over to mum and dad alright?" I hugged him tightly. He hugged back, it was a sad moment, but a good one. I then did the good old two pats on the back and went to the door.

"And one more thing…if you go into my room then be prepared for a bashing when I get back alright?" We both had a short laugh, then it was off down the road to the bus station. Checking the time tables I should get to the barracks bang on time.

I met up with the mates outside the barracks. We were told to walk inside and wait in the courtyard for further instructions. My mates had also packed some basic belongings. Lance brought a pocket watch, a family heirloom. Bolin and Zhixen carried some good luck charms their parents made just for them. Ross brought a footy, which I think was the best. Adriano brought a picture of his family, which I thought was very good. Jackson didn't bring anything special, but he didn't really have much to bring except his girlfriend. She had also signed up. I think the daftest one was Liam, who brought his FUCKING SAXOPHONE! He must have forgotten we where going to be guardsmen not fucking marching band players. I can't wait for the drill instructors to shout at him. I was still sad about Sebastian not being able to come.

As we entered we were put through tents. We were inspected, with a doctor checking us with a torch. We had to strip down to our undies, step on scales, our ears, our eyes, our armpits, and even our toes. We then were given a uniform in our size. Then ordered to put it on. Black boots, khaki tunic and pants, long socks, and the most recognisable part being the slouch hat our hats had a hook for them to be pinned up. We got given back our bags. We got thrown out the other side of the tents and into the crowd of people.

"We ready for this adventure mates?" Ross was pumped, he was bouncing on the spot, I looked around. Most people here were young. Most of them men, some chicks were included, some of them being girlfriends and wives.

"Keep calm billy blink, you'll get there soon." Ross kept on trying to keep his excitement, I had butterflies in my stomach as well, I don't know how you couldn't.

"EVERYONE LISTEN" We all quickly turned to the shouting. It came from a man wearing a black trench coat, and very big hat. I'm talking a hat that was bigger than his head, I'm not joking, he looked like he was compensating for his other head. He was then replaced by another man, in a guardsman uniform with an officer hat that did fit his head.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. It makes me proud to see so many of you signup on the first day of the Emperors call. I see the strength of the 1st AIF in your blood, the sons of campaign and the guardsmen of courage. Soon you will be going to basic training, the first steps into your ranks as the Emperor's finest. It will be a grand adventure across the stars. Full of excitement, exploration and mate-ship. Follow the officers to the train station." They herded us like cattle out of the barracks, down the road and into the train station. I was very sorry for anyone who was just on the footpath and got swept away and now in the AIF. People waved and cheered at us. Was this what it was like for my mum and dad? They met each other during their service, they never really told me how or when in detail.

"They haven't told us where the training is." Lance was correct, but I have heard is there are old camps on the outskirts of Mooro, they may have started them up again.

"What about in the pictures, that scene in…'the digger' where they go on a train to the space port and went to another planet?" Those words came from Liam. That was a good film, the events where based on the first AIF with a group of friends going off into the guard.

"I don't think they will be throwing us off the planet soon." Bolin said, the whistling of a train arriving then interrupted him. When I was boarding I then noticed a couple of the diggers were waving in a single direction. Some newsmen stood with filming gear and a pictographer. We decided to 'entertain them'. I did a normal sticking out my tongue. A few of us waved, Bolin and Zhixen did some over the top marching. Ross did bunny ears on Liam, while I did bunny ears on Ross. Jackson said goodbye to his miss's as she went off into the other train carriages. She had brought her mates as well. I managed to get to the window before anyone else, so I got a good view of inside a train station. The conductors yelled their final calls, some stragglers go on and then the doors closed and it started moving. Finally the view got better and we saw more people cheering at us, some even waved the planetary flag. We all waved back, I have just joined and I already felt like a hero. Eventually the city stopped, and we where in bushland. Redgums, jarrah and eucalyptus, I was no stranger to the bush, we all had been in scouts. My uniform was a bit stuffy, and I think I had the wrong size as it went up a bit. We talked about stuff like how pissed off some of our parents would be when they find out.

"Hey guys. In our first battle we hide Adriano. We get his mum and say that he has been captured by the enemy. Then we just sit back and watch, done we can go home." That was a good joke, I could imagine that happening, 'attack of the wog mum'.

"Team her up with Bruce's mum and watch them take out anything in a matter of seconds." We continued laughing. Many other jokes where made along the trip. One involved getting Jacksons girlfriend to flash her tits at the enemy while we kill them. Or guessing how the food would be on a scale of 10 to Liam's home made cooking.

"Do you think we will see an emperor's angel?" We all laughed at Ross's statement, apparently it was a one in a million chance to see an emperors angel.

"I wonder what it is like to have the ability to kill with a glare?" I remember Darryl was reading a book about a man who saw an angel in action. Their spit could melt the enemy faces and they shouted so loud the enemies head exploded, I would not like to see what their farts could do. The train stopped.

"And I thought it would be a tip." We stopped outside a fenced off selection of wooden buildings with the words 'Woman imperial guard training facility'.

"I thought it would be a bit bigger." The camp looked relatively new, and not very big.

"That's what she said." We then got an officer, a woman this time shouting with a megaphone and standing on a set of wooden boxes.

"Woman please disembark the train, men…if you feel like joining them you may speak to the commissar next to me." Next to her was another person in a black trench coat and stupidly big hat. A closer look showed her bionic eye with burns around it.

"Lance why aren't you getting off?" We all had a laugh, but I'm a bit pissed that the woman are in a different camp. I couldn't practice stealth.

I kind of felt that this was like toilets, the woman's one is always closer, and the woman's one is always better. The camp we had was way bigger than the woman one, but it didn't look at nearly as neat or nice. Another officer stood on several shitty wooden boxes and just like the chick started barking.

"Everyone get off the train and get to the gate NOW." We'll see what happens then.

 **Hope you enjoyed, see you all soon.**


	5. A loud Dick

A loud Dick

We got escorted to our dorm. It was basic, with wooden walls and flooring, bunk beds, footlockers, swinging light bulbs and showing rafters. Forty of us were together. We put our stuff down, the bed was sandy and the mattress was too thin. I tried lying down on it.

"Fuck I can feel the bars." I managed to get the top bunk with Lance getting the bottom. The others got themselves sorted letting out whinges and complaints.

"This isn't the Tiara mate, it isn't going to be 5 stars. Jackson isn't this heaven for you?" Lance stated while testing his own bunk. The Tiara was a giant hotel that only upper class twits could afford. Lance's comment made me smile.

"I guess mate." Jackson said with an unsure smile. He had stayed over a couple of times at our houses, usually when his dad or mum got drunk and/or fought. He was said to be the first one at the other table to agree to join. I am honestly not surprised.

"ATTENTION!" A gravely bellowing voice rang out. Looking around, everyone ran to the front of their bunks, I was startled to the point I nearly fell out of my bunk. I then stood to attention with the others. In the doorway stood a man with a glowing bionic right eye, with a tough snarl across his rough aged face. He silently walked into the middle of the room. His boots echoing on the wooden flaw of the dorm.

"Men, my name is Corporal Robert Dick and I am going to get you ready to be a guardsmen and ready for the battlefield. From now on you refer to me as corporal at the end of a sentence. Now looking around I have somehow ended up in the mong platoon, do you understand that?" He walked around the dorm, he wore the same uniform as the rest of us but with several medals on his chest and two stripes on his arms. He also had a badge pinning his slouch hat.

"Yes corporal!" Everyone barked out, unevenly and distorted by each others shouts.

"I think a quokka just burped or did the emperor shout at me from Terra. I CANNOT FUCKING HEAR YOU!" He looked around the room with his face snarling in disappointment.

"YES CORPORAL!" The second attempt was loud and clear, Dick slowly nodded.

"By the end of these 10 weeks, you will have the skills and the balls to take on anything the galaxy can throw at you. A lasgun will be your wife, and the guard will be your life, but until then you are all stains of mutant shit at the bottom of the dunny. I do not discriminate, I treat everyone equally bad except if that being be a xenos, heretic or mutant then I will proceed to ram my fist down its throat and invert it's asshole. AND BY THE END OF TRAINING YOU WILL BE ABLE TO AS WELL, DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?"

"Yes corporal"

"I think the emperor is trying to shout something from Holy Terra…YOU FUCKS ARE'T LOUD ENOUGH!"

"YES CORPORAL!" Dick sternly nodded. He walked back down to the front of the dorm. He then berated the private nearest to the door, he then did it to the next one. Slowly making his way down the dorm with his voice somehow intact. I largely ignored him until he reached Adriano.

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME PRIVATE?"

"Adriano Rossi corporal!" We tried to contain our laughter as he was shouted at, I guess it carried over from school when the teacher caught us throwing paper wads dipped in ink at each other.

"WHAT'S YOUR JOB IN THE IMPERIAL GUARD?"

"Sorry?"

"I AM ASKING YOU A QUESTION, WHAT IS YOUR JOB IN THE IMPERIAL GUARD?"

"I don't know sir."

"SIR?...SIR? SIR IS SAVED FOR PEOPLE WHO THINK THEY LEAD THE GUARD! THE IMPERIAL GUARD IS HELD UP BY NCO'S. NOW WHAT IS YOUR JOB AS AN IMPERIAL GUARDSMEN?" Dick was on purposely spitting into Adriano's face, with Adriano wincing each time another drop landed on him.

"TO KILL HERETICS, MUTANTS AND XENOS CORPORAL!" Adriano responded in a panicked voice, after that Dick glared and him and calmly stated.

"Damn right!" The grizzled corporal then went onto the Li twins. He looked at them both, acting confused, walking up and inspecting both of them intently. Even grabbing Bolin's face and turning it to the side like inspecting fruit.

"Am I seeing double? WHAT'S YOUR NAME?" He pointed at Bolin.

"BOLIN LI CORPORAL!"

"YOU, WHAT'S YOURS?" He pointed at Zhixen.

"ZHIXEN LI CORPORAL."

"I'M NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO REMEMBER THOSE, YOUR NEW NAMES ARE SKINNY ONE AND SKINNY TWO…YOU'RE BOTH SO PAPER THIN YOU COULD PROBABLY SNEEK UNDER THE DOOR AND WATCH YOUR MOTHER CHANGING! SHOULD BE EASY TO CARRY YOUR WEIGHT AROUND! GO EAT SOMETHING FOR FUCKS SAKE! Don't want the wind blowing you away in the heat of battle." I guess he was treating everyone equally bad. I was now thinking what would he call me. I wasn't short nor was I particularly skinny. Dick moved onto Jackson.

"I NOTICED YOU DO NOT LIKE MY VOICE! WHO ARE YOU AND WHY IS THAT PRIVATE?" Jackson flinched and held his eyes shut with vocal cords so close to him.

"My name is Jackson Heart and I have sensitive ears corporal." Jackson murmured out, Dick took a deep breath.

"PRIVATE HEART I WANT TO SAY TO YOU THIS ISN'T EVEN MY SHOUTING VOICE! **THIS IS MY SHOUTING VOICE, HOW ARE YOU GOING TO COPE WITH THE NOISE OF BATTLE WHEN YOU DON'T LIKE MY LITTLE OLD ME YELLING AT YOU!"** The loudness of his berating made sure everyone in the training camp heard it, probably reached Mooro too. Seeing that Jackson was pretty stunned, Dick moved onto the next person, Liam.

"NAME PRIVATE?"

"Liam Stock corporal"

"PRIVATE STOCK WHAT IS THIS?" Dick proceeded to pick up the saxophone case and bump it into Liam's face.

"THAT IS MY SAXOPHONE CORPORAL!"

"WHY IN THE EMPERORS NAME DID YOU BRING A SAXOPHONE! **INTO THE FUCKING IMPERIAL GUARD?** " There were a couple sniggers in the dorm, As soon as Dick reared his head and looked around the room everyone fell silent.

"I LIKE TO PLAY THE SAXOPHONE CORPORAL!" Liam said quite defensively, Dick again took another deep breath.

"I BET YOU LIKE TO PLAY WITH A MUTANT AS WELL! GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER PRIVATE STOCK OR SHIT GETS YOU!" Dick dropped the case at Liam's feet. I couldn't help but let out a single laugh looking at the ground. When I recovered I stared up into the face of Dick, mere centimetres from my own. He was way uglier up close. I felt the moist breath from his nose and could see the veins rippling in his wrinkled neck.

"Did you say something private?" He feigned calmness, but looking into that piercing eye of his, he was anything but happy, looking like a blood vessel would burst.

" **DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT!** " He repeated, I honestly was wrong on how loud he could go, my ears were ringing slightly, and my face was showered in his warm spit.

"I DID NOT CORPORAL!" I lied through my teeth, Dick wasn't buying.

"SO YOU JUST APPARENTLY FARTED OUT A LAUGH? IS THAT HOW THE KIDS ARE DOING IT THESE DAYS?" Liam was across the room from me doing stupid faces the others joined in. I couldn't help but smile. Even when I was biting my tongue in an attempt to stop the grin forming.

"DO I AMUSE YOU PRIVATE? Does this sound funny to you?" I tried to wipe the smile off my face. But the fact that Adriano was now impersonating Dick was just too funny.

"NO CORPORAL!" I squeezed out, trying not to let a laugh go with it.

"YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY, HOW WERE YOU BEFORE BEING A GUARDSMEN!"

"HAPPY CORPORAL!" Looking at his face, his mouth was in the shape of an upside-down U and his face was completely red, and I was still smiling at him. He was like a Grox that had been poked to the point of madness.

"What…is…your…name… **PRIVATE?** "

"MY NAME IS BRUCE DUWAL C*thwack*" He hit me across the face. I fell to the ground. To be very honest I was expecting that to happen. He then started his routine ranting straight into my ear.

"LISTEN HERE DICKFACE MOTHERFUCKER PRIVATE DUWAL, I AM IN CHARGE NOW AND YOU ARE A PIECE OF SHIT! I HAVE YOUR ASS FOR 10 FUCKING WEEKS. GET UP AND FIX YOUR FUCKING SMUG ASS FACE BEFORE I FIX IT FOR YOU!" He then stood up, straightened his tunic and looked around the dorm with his right hand in the air.

"IF ANY OF YOU INTERRUPT ME WHEN I'M SPEAKING I WILL WHORE SLAP YOU SO HARD YOUR FACE WILL BE DEFORMED FOR THE REST OF YOUR MISERABLE LIFE! IS THAT CLEAR?" The noise emitted from our lungs was loud and hearty.

"YES CORPORAL!" He moved onto Lance, he was ripe for a verbal whipping the moment Dick looked at him.

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME PRIVATE?" Lance

"Lance Bull corporal."

"WHERE THE EMPEROR'S FUCKING IMPERIUM IS YOUR DEPARTMENTO MUNITORIUM ISSUE SLOUCH HAT PRIVATE BULL?"

"I don't know corporal!"

"DID IT JUST DISAPPEAR! DID IT JUST FLY OFF YOUR HEAD INTO SPACE? MAYBE YOUR NAME SHOULD BE PRIVATE BULLSHIT!"

"I have it corporal!" Ross interrupted, I think he just made himself another target, Dick knocked the hat off Ross.

"Do you know why I knocked your hat off?" Ross' eyes darted to the hat then back to the angry NCO.

"No corporal."

"I'll tell you why. It was not because it didn't belong to you. IT WAS ON BACKWARDS, DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU PUT A CHARGE PACK INTO A LASGUN BACKWARDS?" Ross shook his head, the corporal picked up the hat and unhooked it.

"NO CORPORAL."

"THAT HERETIC JUST SHOT IN YOUR USLESS BRAIN BECAUSE YOU COULDN'T RELOAD FAST ENOUGH! PIN IT BACK UP AND PUT IT ON PROPERLY!" Dick shoved the hat into Ross's chest and moved back to Lance.

"AND YOU JUST GAVE AWAY YOUR HAT TO AN IDIOT. OUT OF THE TWO OF YOU, YOU HAVE ONE BRAIN BETWEEN YOU!" He then continued to insult his way down the line of men. All being based on their figure, face or something else could come up with. One for not having shoes tied, one for not doing up a button, one for wearing a necklace. He then briskly walked back to the doorway.

"I have made my verdict that the most useful thing you can do it wipe my ass and get shot by the man in the black coat. That verdict will change when you FOLLOW ME, COME ON START RUNNING NOW!"

Our first day was a day of exercise, we crawled, climbed, jogged and tripped with the corporal behind us shouting at our every move, and that was only the first day. It was designed to weed out the people that would fail early. Lunch was stew and potatoes, with a little bit of coarse bread. Later it was more exercise. Dick was surprisingly fit for his age, being able to manoeuvre the same obstacles younger men struggled with. Dinner was at 9:30 and lights out at 10:00. Making sure our room was spotless for Dick's inspection. I collapsed onto the thin mattress that night. Sore were I didn't know I could be sore and had one thought.

Overall I think this was going to be just fare dinkum.


	6. 10 weeks (maybe)

**Thank you for reading this far, it really encourages me. Read on**

10 weeks (maybe)

First day was one massive exercise, and all the prodding they did back at the barracks was just a warm up. Some of the less fit were told to leave, and jumped back on the train, some of them trying to hold in tears.

Everyday had the same drill. Dick would wake us up, have us run a track around the bush known as "the hike" which took us two minutes. We would then arrive at the mess hall and eat breakfast, which was more grain-bits, tea and some other tucker. Then training began, we would then have a break for lunch, we would then get back to the training. Every week had a certain theme. The daily regime was read out by the corporal in the face of an unlucky recruit.

Week 1

We got lined up, Dick was in front of us holding a lasrifle. Behind him was the shooting range, and a rack of lasguns, but not enough for all of us.

"Listen here shittards, this is an M36 Pattern Lasgun, this is hands down the best weapon in the whole galaxy. If you shoot anything with enough rounds from this this beut, it will kill it. You may be asking 'corporal, why is it fucking made of wood'. It's made of wood from the trees around you, from this planet. When you fight, you're literally holding the fate of this planet in your hands. NOW GRAB A GUN AND FOLLOW ME!" He then made us walk to up the shooting range, there was a scramble for the lasguns. I didn't manage to get one.

"Ok do what I'm doing. Press the button that says standard, the gun is now live and it can kill, don't go waving them around, they are not laser pointers. Now you want to lie on the ground like this, and position your arms like me. Look down the iron sights, if you don't…you have what's coming to you. Take aim at your target, and pull the trigger." A crack rang out, with a red beam hitting the target. He then stood up and undid the charge pack, then hurled it at one of us.

"WHEN YOU RUN OUT OF SHOTS, I TEACH YOU TO RELOAD!"

After they were done, the other half of the group got to shoot, I managed to hit the target, a little under 40%. We got taught how to disassemble, clean and put the lasgun back together. The rest of the week had us doing that and some basic drilling, like being able to turn on your heel and salute. We then had to sit down and learn about boring stuff like martial law, and a thing called "heresy".

Week 2

"THE FUCKING ENEMY IS NOT GOING TO WAIT FOR YOU TO RELAOD BRUCE! DO IT RIGHT THIS TIME."

"YES, CORPORAL!" We continued target practice. Now I could hit the target roughly 50% of the time, and I could time my shots as well. Another time we were taught how to use a vox caster. One at a time because of there was only one. It was all good until Ross got the machine. I think the corporal was getting to the point of losing his voice. When Lance put it together without even being taught, he was the one to teach everyone else. He said it was just like the car radios.

PT included forced marching over the hills and through the bush and a timed 2.4km run and swim test. Lessons on Ranks, customs ceremonial procedures then followed. They gave us a book called 'the imperial infantryman's uplifting primer.'

Week 3

This week we did group tasks with strangers. This included carrying logs to form bridges, and carrying a man who pretended to be wounded. We did more swimming and we got introduced to even more training and endurance marching. I remember falling over at one point and got a face full of sand and leaves.

"NICE BRUCE, GOOD WAY OF APPLYING FACIAL CAMOUFLAGE!" I think the corporal's name matched his personality. I wonder if his wife's name is 'Head'.

When we hit the ranges again, we learnt how to use other power settings on the lasgun for recoil, I could now hit 55% of my shots. We found out how to use the loudspeaker function on the vox caster. One day we got yelled at to obey orders quickly as a team and without the corporal hitting us behind the knees. We had an assessment at the end of the week, I escaped to the guard so I wouldn't see paper again, I get this.

Week 4

We refined our lasgun shooting abilities. Now I could hit the target on the highest setting a little above 60%. We fired the lasgun in different positions, and at moving targets. Which was fun when you are shooting at the targets. Not much fun when you have to hold the targets up and run down a trench, Adriano got the top of his hat burnt. We then did more exercises and we were even given leave on one day to go to the nearby town.

"IF I FIND ANY OF YOU ON YOUR ASSES PISSED TO SHIT AND I HAVE TO PICK YOU UP AND PUT YOU TO BED! I WILL MAKE YOU DO P.T UNTIL YOU PUKE **AND** SHIT YOURSELVES!" A glorious quote of corporal Dickhead. We did find a pub however and we did get pissed. Bolin and Zhixen even managed to sneak some past the gate lookouts…best not to ask how. I think the women went to a different town.

Week 5

We were told to stand and listen to a speech given by the man in the large hat. He stood on a wooden box to look over all of us. He sounded foreign. I couldn't help see that Jackson is missing, and we couldn't find him anywhere.

"My name is commissar Victrus…You may have seen me from the sidelines, my job is to watch over you and keep you in line. If any of you break and run in the face of the enemy, I will not hesitate to discipline you, as you have failed in the name of the Emperor. Hopefully you will stand firm and follow all orders given to you as if the lord has just gave it himself." I zoned out, but then I noticed something coming up from the building behind the commisar, a small slender figure. Now it is common practice in a classroom to not dob on a friend, but I started smiling.

"As I stand so shall you, if you see anyone who indulges in heretical practice you report him to me and I shall discipline him. If you catch anyone breaking imperial law in this regiment, you report him to me. And most importantly, if you obstruct the work of a member of the commissariat, you shall be…" It was something that many students did, but usually the twins would do it together. Giving the big-hat prick a light tap on the shoulder, the man turned. Giving the man just enough time to reach around, grab the trouser pockets and pull the commissars pants down, showing his red boxers. We laughed as Jackson ran for it faster than a roo, Victrus turned to run after him but fell flat on his face. Jackson then grabbed the hat of the commissar, threw it into the ground and then continued running.

"Discipline this man CORPORAL!" Dick gave him a fake punishment for his 'tactical planning' and good application of stealth.

We got taught about the events and battles of the 1st AIF. It was a good time to learn about the history and what we were following. We linked with the people that had died before us. It was interesting. Nearly as good as learning how to use an Autocannon. We had self awareness training and upper body strength with more endurance marching. Then on the last day of the week it was straight back to the town to get pissed.

Week 6

3 days of the week consisted of first aid training. How to cover burns, close wounds and other stuff. We practiced on dead pigs. We then had an assessment on the third day to see if we listened. For Ross this was no problem. We also got introduced to flak armour with the following speech;

"This…is flak armour, the best armour in the whole galaxy with no other alien shit coming close. It will stop bullets, lasers, knives, bayonets and shrapnel. Make sure you know it's limits. Now we start by putting it on!" The armour was composed of a vest, shoulder guards, shin guards and a thing called a 'brodie helmet'. To me it looked like a bowl. We learnt how to judge distance using a map and use a compass, along with magnoculars. PT was swimming and a battle preparation circuit.

Week 7

This week was bonza, for one reason, grenades. We learnt how to maintain, handle and throw grenades. At the end of the talk we were given a good shouting by the corporal who said to us all.

"DON'T FUCKING USE THE BLOODY PIN AS A FUCKING TOOTH PICK!" This was while Liam was trying to juggle them.

More Navigation was done this week with us being thrown off the back of a track in the bush and told to navigate our way back. We managed to wonder into the Sheila camp, this is what happens when you have Adriano leading the way, he goes to the girls. We get back 6 hours late.

PT was rope climbing and carrying people on a stretcher, more endurance marching and obstacle courses with a taste of army rations in the field…salty.

Week 8:

This was a very tiring week as we undertook the recruitment fitness assessment (RFA), a massive general fitness test. Some didn't pass. Circuit training continues. Further rope climbing skills, and survival swimming. But we also learnt how to bayonet fight with a paint brush on the end of a bit of wood. If you got painted you were out.

"NOW ONE THING THAT THE ENEMY WILL FEAR IS A BAYONET CHARGE. SEE THE OTHER MEN OVER THERE. THEY ARE THE ENEMY NOW! WHEN YOU CHARGE, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR A AAAAAAA! I WANT TO HEAR A **AAAAAAAAAAAA!** NOW READY…THREE TWO ONE!" He blew a whistle and we charged at the other training group, I think I managed to paint two people before I got paint in the face. More training with navigation was and we also learnt stuff like sewing…why?

Week 9

More fitness work. Now I was starting to struggle, with some more of our group not passing and going to a growing retraining platoon. The rest of the week was in the local fields using the patrolling, fieldcraft and navigation lessons were put to the test. We worked as a team with full gear on. Even having a fake battle with a fellow group we ran into.

"Congratulations, you may have won if the enemy was throwing cow shit at you. PUT SOME EFFORT INTO IT!" Dick was still being what his name said, but he was getting on our nerves even more with more hitting and shouting.

Week 10

We now went from small teams to full platoons. We did the exact same thing though. Dick said 'you all can't wait for friday'. On friday we were woken up only three hours after we went to bed. We then had to do lots of mental and physical work. I was crossing the log bridge when I felt like collapsing, just giving up, and going back home.

Then I remembered what my mum would do to me if I went back, and that my mates were all here. I kept going. We did the final inspection of our kits, and fine tuned our drilling. When we had finished, we were about to rest. When Dick walked in. He had a paper bag in his hand. He walked into the middle of the room.

"When I started off with you lot, you were all just shits on the floor. I am now done with you, and now you are the most pristine warriors known to mankind. If you say the emperors holy angels are better, I need to tell you this. Nothing beats a guardsmen platoon armed with lasguns, valour, hatred, flak armour and some good ol autocannons. Here are your official badges." He handed us some badges. Two colour symbols to show regimental placement. That were stitched into the sleeves. The other was a brass winged skull, that would be pinned to our hats.

"Tomorrow you go back to Mooro, and the parade begins…This was only the beginning to a long way to glory. Good luck to all of you. **GO FUCKING GET'EM!** "

 **AN**

 **If you have an idea on how to improve the story or how it is going, please leave a review. Thank you and see you next time.**


	7. Marching On

**I think this story is one of the best one's I have written, and I have many plans to come. Read on!**

Marching on

"We are stopping now. Get ready!" We were all officially guardsmen, all on our way to serving the emperor of mankind, nothing could top the excitement. My mates and I were placed in the 11th infantry regiment, strangely the same one my dad served in. We were in a train heading back to Mooro. We would then march around the city, get back on the train and go to the space port in Mantle. I feel very sorry for the ones that got put into auxiliary, you don't join the guard to sit at a desk counting equipment. After we got off the train we were approached by a woman wearing a suit and with a recorder in her hand and a couple of people behind her.

"I am here at the train station with departing guardsmen. So how does it feel to be in the imperial guard?" She held the recorder up to Jackson, he jumped at it being put into his face, and he hid behind me.

"Ok so how about you then sir?" I was really considering holding Ross in front of me, he would then tell them about the time the commissar's pants got pulled down.

"I feel quite all right miss, just me and a couple-"

"Hello mama." Adriano jumped in, he then disappeared back into the crowd, I took this as an opportunity for my escape too, I was starting to fall behind.

The marching order went 15th infantry regiment, the 11th infantry regiment then the 28th infantry regiment. Each had about 10 companies; we didn't have any unit designation yet so we only marched in neat columns. Only some groups (including ours) got lasguns, supply was still low. The 15th went first as it had a woman's company, (ladies first). But then it was our turn to start. We took a last minute trip to the dunny then ready to go.

"ALL RIGHT MATES, STRAIGHT SHOULDERS, LOOK FORWARD AND HAVE FUN!" That was the overseeing NCO's. They got a separate marching group. We better get a good person to command us.

"You going to look out for incoming slippers Adriano?" Lance asked him. We all had a laugh, then I though, what if my parents are watching.

"Hopefully the training helped my reactions." We began our march. It was a sunny day, good thing we only had our basic uniform and lasgun, and not our packs.

People cheered, waving planetary flags and throwing flower petals. Now I felt like a hero to the imperium. I could see the regimental flag flying in the wind ahead, in the midst's of the officers. I kept a look out for my family, none of them were in the crowd. The scale of the crowd was massive, I think the entire city stopped just to watch us march. My mum was probably scared shitless she will never see me again. She probably sent hundreds of letters to me that I never received. We weren't aloud to see letters in basic training. She would be proud on the inside. My dad would be proud of me, congratulating me on how brave I was, but he would be a little nervous about me. Darryl would call me an idiot. He probably has my room now.

We passed Emperor's park. A massive memorial centre dedicated to the fallen guardsmen of the 1st AIF and before. The park has kilometres of forest area and war memorials, with flags flying and wildlife. It was a nice place to visit. I went there for scout training and my family and I would go there for picnics occasionally. After completing our march we went back to the train station. We were told to then 'hurry up and wait'.

"Bruce, your mum going to slap you?" Liam then lit a ciggie. I turned and hit the lit ciggie out of his mouth. We then both got up to have a quick scrap, but then had to stop when Victrus passed us. He then stopped, gave both of us a glance, then continued walking.

"Saved by the hat Liam, would have knocked you if he wasn't there." He knocked my hat off then we settled down. We could still see people waving, and saying goodbye to loved ones, I then saw three people in the crowd. My family spotted me, I got up and walked towards them. My mum was the first one to say hello. As soon as I was about to hug her, she hit me in the face. I could hear Liam laughing.

"YOU STUPID BOY, YOU RUN OFF FOR TEN WEEKS TO JOIN YOUR BLOODY MATES TO GO ON SOME GRAND ADVENTURE, AND YOU DON'T EVEN TELL YOUR OWN MUM!" She kept on hitting me, I could hear Darryl and Dad laughing. She then hugged me tightly.

"I'm proud of you Bruce, don't you ever do that to me again, stay safe all right." I hugged back, she was a lot stronger than she looked.

"I will write, every day if that makes you happy." She then let go, Dad stepped in and hugged me, and I tried to ignore the pain of his prosthetic leg stepping on my foot.

"You're a good man Bruce, did it just like us." He then let go, lastly it was Darryl, we did the hug then he stepped away.

"Hey mate I made something for you." He then reached into his pocket I didn't see it coming. He then quickly jabbed me in the stomach, he was getting better at it.

"What kind of tough guardsmen are you mate?" I then got up and did a jab at him, he dodged it, he then laughed. That was when I got him with my other hand.

"Watch both hands, just because your opponent is right handed doesn't mean it's useless." I then patted him on the shoulder and walked away, we all waved good-bye and I joined the mates again. They were laughing.

"Aye Bruce, you're not going to do well against the enemy if an old woman can beat you." Adriano then laughed. In the crowd I saw a short, olive skinned woman readying a leather object, in a grenade throwing position.

"Keep laughing wog, karma is flying your way." With perfect accuracy and precision, a shoe came flying through the air, hitting the wog's face with a *thwack* noise. Followed by the shouting of a scary olive skinned woman with only one shoe on.

"Aye mates, I will be back." He tried to hide the embarrassment, we were then laughing at him he then ran off to his mum.

"I could see Bolin and Zhixen saying goodbye to their parents. Liam was as well. Lance was talking to his brothers. They both pretty much looked the same. Jackson was off trying to find his miss's. I could also see a man in the crowd, carrying a baby and with a woman at his side. I walked to them.

"Sebastian, she's grown a bit since last time hasn't she." The little girl looked a lot like him and was wide eyed at everything. Sebastian's wife was distracted, she hadn't noticed me.

"She's a hand full now mate. I kind of wish I had joined the guard with you lot, how was training?" I made a face at the toddler, she smiled and reached out at me. I gave her my finger, she managed to shake it on her own.

"It was good, we got shouted at by a man called Dick. See the man in the big hat over there that is dressed like complete tools, yeah…Jackson pulled his pants down in front of everyone. All in all it was a fun few weeks." I really did enjoy basic training, it reminded me of scouts in a lot of ways.

"Sounds like fun, tell the others that I will write to you all." I then shook hands with Sebastian and walked back to the mates. Eventually the train arrived.

We waved while jumping on. Then it was off towards the space port. Again people watched us leave, cheering. We got the name of the 'first batch'. The first men off the planet of the second AIF. The space port looked very out of shape compared to the rest of the city. It went high into the sky and was made entirely out of metal, with space ships flying in and out. I had never been there before. We got kicked off the train and then herded to massive metal lifts. It was very different to normal, and I thought it was too big. Then I had a look at the ship. I guessed it was two kilometres long and half a kilometre high, with giant guns on top of it. We walked past awe struck as we had never seen something as gigantic as this. We were lined up along one of the jetties with NCO's still giving orders over the noise of engines.

"Fucking loud isn't it." All the while we had to carry our bags carrying our personal equipment. We would get issued with our gear once we got onboard.

"How do you make something as big as that?" Lance said as we neared the gang planks the size of freeways all along the vessel. We got shoved up by the officers and Commissars. The interior of the ship was nothing I had seen before. A labyrinth of metal walkways and pillars. It was dizzying on the scale of this thing. Around the place were men and women wearing leathery suits and cybernetics poking out of them. They were mostly short, had pale skin and looked quite frail, they just ignored us. They had a weird accent as well. We got placed on metal elevators and piled through cramped hallways. Then we walked into an area with beds placed four high and spanning longer than I could see. I could see railings at the end of the room that had a bottomless drop, and a large window that was open. None of us could talk. We didn't know what to say, this place was just strange. Everyone crowded around the window and we could still see people waving at us. We waved back, some of us with our slouch hats. The breeze from up here was very cooling, and this was the highest I have ever been. We looked down as more men poured onto the ship with cranes lifting boxes and vans moving about. Then the windows shut, and we could feel the ship starting to move.

I could feel the ship moving as my stomach hit the side of my body. We kept waving until the ship left docks and started going up. Out the window we could see Mooro, all of it from a great view form the inner city to the outer suburbs. We then broke the clouds. It looked like bits of wool from up this high. It was beautiful. We gripped the handrails as the ship started gaining speed. It then got darker and darker. We saw then this empty blackness. We didn't know what to make of it, just forever blackness. I noticed that Lance was getting nervous, the man didn't like heights at all.

"It's…struth what is it?" Liam said, he was the only one out of us to actually say anything. No one was talking.

I don't know how long it took. We just stood and watched. We then saw other ships, similar to the one we were in. I didn't have any words to describe looking at Arala from orbit. It was just an alien feeling. According to the big hat that would be heresy. I could see the jungle belt, the vast red deserts and the mountains on the poles, then it went out of view. The voidships lined up and faced in the same direction.

"Preparing for immatarium jump." A voice said through the loud speakers, none of us paid attention to it. Sadly big metal plates slid over the window. Then we could all hear the ship's engines roaring very loudly, then it stopped. We all just stood there for a moment. We were heading away from home. The furthest most of us have ever been.

"STOP STANDING AROUND LIKE FUCKING DICKHEADS AND FOLLOW ME **NOW**!" Oh no it's dick 2.0. However this man was a sergeant, and had a moustache that looked like a grey bilby glued to his upper lip.

 **AN**

 **Thank you for reading if you want to, please leave a review (they really help). See you next time.**


	8. 4 months

**The latest in the grand adventure and it appears that the list of fanfics has frozen.**

4 months

"Welcome to your five star cruise on the grand troop ship 'Deliverance'. You have just visited the luxurious sleeping quarters, now this space is where you will rattler and pass time." The sergeant said with the whole regiment surrounding him. We stood in a large open area of metal, with boxes, tables and cables strewn everywhere.

"Now these are the rules of the roughly 4 month shipment. Number one, do not wander into any area that you have not been permitted to enter. Number 2, keep communication between yourself and the voidsmen to a minimum. Number 3, don't touch any of the controls on the walls. It is also advisable that you don't open the windows. If you have any questions please ask the hat over there." We laughed, as commissar Victrus just gave his standard stern look. That was the only thing he was called now. One person I also noticed standing next to him was a priest. He was bald, with a staff that had an open book atop of it, as we would expect. On his backpack was a chainsword and he had a flamer slung over his shoulder.

"Now here is Colonel Rouch, to give you his speech." Stepping into the place of the sergeant was a man in his early fifties. He wasn't dressed as formally as the other high-ranking officers. His sleeves were rolled up and he had a slouch hat instead of the officer's cap. He had a chest full of medals and scars running up one arm. He had a big bushy goatee, and that combined with his slicked back mullet made him look like a bogan.

"Mates, I am a guardsmen that has risen through the ranks of command. I have fought many enemies of the Emperor. I have pretty much seen everything in war. I have seen what it is like to be a guardsman. And I even had to put up with the hats. But when I am in command of you. I WON'T TELL YOU TO DO SOMETHING I FUCKING WOULDN'T DO MYSELF! I see some of the veterans around here who have probably met more…ass up officers who will tell you to do suicidal shit, I am not one of those commanders. Do not see me as an officer, see me as a cobber. I will get to know you, because I want to know the people I am commanding. Seriously you should all feel lucky that I am not some upper class, inbred, fat, berko, fucked in the face, has a diamond dunny, wipes his clacker with gold, has an inbred family and has several toes missing." We laughed at the last statement, he gave a sort of fake smile. Twirling his pace stick in his hand. Then tapping it on the floor to silence us.

"I'm not joking mates, I've met a few colonels that march men across minefields." He talked with a familiar tone, and just looking at Victrus he was not impressed.

The daily routine went like this. Get up, have brekkie, do a random activity, have lunch, do another random activity, have dinner, lights out. But for most of the time it was sitting around trying to find something to do. The activities were training exercises. Including shooting, running, and learning how to fight with a bayonet, both if we had it on the end of the lasgun or in the hand. The ship was eerie. When we slept the hull grunted and groaned. It swayed occasionally. Barrels were set up in the quarters, called sick drums. If we got a thing called void sickness (which we all had), we would vomit into the barrels. The day would start with a foul smelling barrel and end with an overflowing foamy substance. That was if it didn't fall over, putting chunky yellow bile all over the floor. Or sometimes on us, a mistake Jackson made. Sometimes when sleeping I think someone was in my bunk with me, whispering into my ear. I could never understand what the voices said. But both the priest and the commissar said that we should NOT listen. The voices said very nice things however, but it was very creepy, the type of voice that made the hair on my neck stand up. Another thing that none of us liked was the confinement, I was almost afraid the walls would fall in at any moment. We also had to just sit around for hours waiting to be told what to do. We couldn't receive or send letters so we couldn't even talk to our families back home. Talking about training got boring after the fifth day. The most exciting thing we got was hearing a groan of the ships hull, or when the lights flashed for no reason. We tried talking to the voidsmen but a lot of them ignored us.

Some of the officers were kind enough to let us gamble in the shady corners of the living quarters, or even in the galley. Some officers joined in, but the only things worth gambling were ciggies and grog. The ship board tucker was a thing called 'soyleans Viridians' but the voidsmen kept calling it 'corpse starch'. It was a bland, sloppy and oily porridge that had small bits of black mixed into it. I could live with it, but just looking at the rotting teeth of the ship dwellers, it wasn't bonza to eat for any length of time.

"Hey, Bolin, Zhixen, weren't you on one of these voidships when you came to Arala?" Ross asked, we were just sitting around the galley at this time. We were all very tired for some reason, we had no energy a lot of the time.

"Yeah, we don't remember a lot. We were too young mate. All I remember is being pushed around and that we were on the ship for a reason." Zhixen was the one who had managed to haggle some of the voids men for grog. It tasted like watered down urine with floaty crunchy bits in it. We did not question what the floating bits were. We tried our best not to bite any. (They tasted nutty)

"From what I can remember it was not a good experience." I couldn't agree less, it was very unnerving to be on this ship, especially the smell. It was a mixture of the musty corpse starch, promethium, sweat, grog and vomit. Vomit 'til it's froth, is what they say.

"I would like to fucking feel some air again, that hasn't been recycled from the engine." The air was stale as well, trapping in all the stink of the ship smells.

"You have to wonder…how do you make something this big?" This ship is way too big for anything I have seen. Where do you house something as large as this? How do you make the parts for it?" Lance said. We were lying in our bunks at lights out. These were very interesting questions, that I couldn't be bothered answering right now.

"Maybe it's your mums fat ass mate. It could probably house something much bigger." Bolin said from the bunk in our stack. We had a short laugh. Lance threw a sock at him.

"Rack off ching, but I am being serious. How in the actual fuck do you make something this big and then get it airborne? How many people does it take to run a ship this big? Imagine how much promethium this thing uses every second."

"AAAAH!" Adriano fell of his bunk and started scrambling away from a picture that was on the floor. It was the one of his family. The entire regiment looked his way. The look on his face was pure terror. Sweat pouring off his face, and sunken eyes, pale skin and heavy breathing. We all jumped, some of the men even falling out of their bunks.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" Victrus shoved his way past all of the guardsmen. Standing over Adriano, pulling him to his feet, and slapping him. Adriano pointed at the picture, mumbling but eventually we could understand him.

"I…I…the picture…it moved…I SWEAR ON THE GOD EMPEOR IT MOVED! IT SPOKE TO ME!" Victrus despite wearing his undergarments still had his hat on. Probably super glued to his head after the Jackson incident. Victrus picked it up and looked at it, and then threw it at the wog.

"You're hallucinating guardsmen, everyone go back to bed." Adriano then looked at the picture, we reluctantly went back to our bunks. Adriano kept on saying to us that it moved. I then went to sleep, but it wasn't a comfortable sleep.

Then the voices started talking again. They told me that I could be the best warrior ever, that was not something I wanted to be. Another voice said that I am too good for the guard and if I do what it says I will be perfect. I can't if I bail I will be leaving my mates. Another said that I can take over the galaxy, that's a bit impossible last time I checked. Another one said to accept 'Nurgle's gift'. My mum told me to not accept things from strangers.

I was actually getting well with my lasgun, I could hit the target 75% of the time. So could most of the other mates. Also I could throw grenades a good distance. I had also become an expert with my bayonet. Ross was the best at bayonet fighting, springing back and forth. He lunged, poked, and then was already gone before we could poke him. Lance was the best shot with the lasgun, showing off by doing it between his legs. If we need grenades thrown across the field we looked at Adriano. Must come from his mums side of the family. The rest of us were average. The Colonel would sometimes join in, encouraging and talking to us. He really was a character being amongst us, even giving us some proper grog. We also had to perfect our drilling, overseen by Victrus. We had briefings on the things we might fight, by the hatted fucker himself.

"Guardsmen, you will fight enemies across the imperium's borders, you and the rest of the AIF are being sent to a planet known as Shamal. This is a desert planet. A jewel of trade and prosperity on the edge of the Imperium itself. The two prevalent enemies in the sector are the barbaric orks and the looming threat of heretic warbands. The orks are big dim-witted brutes that flail about the battlefield in disorganised mobs." He showed us a sketch of a stocky, bulky xenos with a big jaw and hunched over back. Big snarly grin with a large cleaver as a weapon.

"They may look big and tough, but with your training and faith they can be dispatched with ease. The first step to death if being afraid of the enemy. Stand firm and know that the emperor is with you. These beasts kill without mercy. You shall show them none. Orks are tougher than the average man but they can still be felled with the lasgun. It is advised you try and avoid melee combat with the greenskins, except in emergencies. It is best to aim for the head, as it is at the front of the ork and they rarely wear armour. There weapons are crude and vehicles are ramshackle. Don't touch them it will lead to injury. Read your uplifting primers for more information." He then flipped over the page. We all sneered as he revealed two sketches. One was of a mutant and the other a heretic. It was disgusting, they had tentacles and claws. Something that we were told as children to look out for and report to authorities.

"Before I speak further, if you think one of your comrades is in anyway, mutated. Report him to me and he shall be…taken care of. Heresy, corruption, mutation, witchcraft and treachery, all are the signs of an unspeakable peril. You must feel the fire of the emperor and stoke it with your own hatred to destroy this threat. You must be vigilant in the face of the damned, and look for moral threats in yourself and in others. To ignore them is to damn their soul and your mates. By identifying the signs in the environment that people have turned on the Emperor's light. You and your fellow guardsmen can protect yourselves from the greatest danger. HERESY! If in doubt look to the priest. He can help you guide the torch of the Emperor's light." He then switched to pictures of mutations, each getting more twisted and agonizing than the last. Some of us running to the sick barrel.

"Those who defile themselves with the marks of mutation, are the impure mutants. Extra limbs and facial features, hidden misshapen body parts and hatred of Imperial iconography. Watch if they act clumsily or tear up when making the sign of the Aquila. Or have a putrid smell, these can be all signs of the mutant." He then slid to a picture of an ugly woman in a robe holding a staff and giving a wicked grin.

"Unsanctioned psychic powers and foul sorcery are signs of witchcraft and must be dealt with harshly. They threaten the soul and must be swiftly destroyed with the help of one's regimental commissar or ministorum priest. Unnatural frost, nose bleeds, strange glyphs, poor sleep, gravity change, aversion to holiness, evil omens and extreme buoyancy can indicate the signs of a witch." He then lastly switched over to a sketch of some guardsmen, but different. They had ruined armour, and strange symbols on that armour. They had mutations and the imperial symbols on their gear scratched out.

"Some guardsmen lose their way and become heretics, given false promises and killing in the name of dark gods. They cannot come back form the abyss and are to be dispatched as any enemy of the imperium. Their equipment is in disrepair and is similar to yours. They have lost their minds to corruption and fight in maddening groups. Only kept going by the brutal actions of enforcers. To feel sympathy for them…is to join them in damnation. That is the end of the briefing do you have any questions?" A person at the back put their hand up, the commissar nodded at it, and a person began speaking.

"How many of these heretics are there?" That was a good question; Victrus looked around then turned off the pictures.

"Numbering in only the weak of will, not many of them at all. I am more afraid of you becoming them than fighting them." We then left the room and went to the bed. Tomorrow would be the day we would be off the ship. It

 **AN**

 **Thank you for reading, the next chapter I am very exited for. Reviewing will help and see you next weekend.**


	9. Paid Holiday

**Thank you for getting this far, and for following and favoriting. Read on**

Paid holiday

Getting kicked down the gang planks one by one by Victrus was a relieving feeling. The heat and glare of the sun, the feeling of the wind on my skin and sounds that weren't ships noises. But this new planet was far from the look and feel of home. From atop the space port, we saw a great city below us, convoluted and stretching for kilometres. Beyond that was a never ending yellow desert.

"My eyes are on fire." I agreed with Zhixen, we hadn't seen sunlight in a while. As with getting on the ship, we started the task of getting shouted at until we got to the lift. We had to march formally around, so the regiments didn't get mixed up. More regiments were spotted, descending from all across Arala. More than I could count, all moving across the space port in neat order.

"With that many men, there will be a lot of Hatted fucks." Jackson shouted over the sound of several thousand guardsmen marching across the port.

We saw tanks rumbling across the jetties, best described as a moving wall of guns. We would keep going until we went to the lift. We saw giant structures that was towering over the city, made of stone. They had ridges running along them and went even further into the sky then the space port. With it were giant beasts that had skulls for heads, as if they stood guard of the giant structure. We only got a minutes view of it, then we saw the actual city itself. Yellow buildings four stories high made of stone with bits of wood poking out. The streets were crowded and it was very loud. The sun glared off the sandy ground, thank fuck the slouch hat kept the sun out of our eyes. The smell was assaulting our senses, with what I assumed were spices. The people of this city had brown skin with flowing robes and bushy facial hair. We followed the officers and shoved the citizens away if they got close. Many were offering stuff, but I could barely understand what the fuck they were saying. After several hours of pushing away the locals, trying not to sneeze from the thick smell and squinting, we left the city.

"They're a bit pushy aren't they." I then turned to see Lance holding what looked like a sort of exotic rug. He had it over his shoulder, and was smiling.

"Had some change in my pocket…I think I'll send this back home." We then came to a halt, with me running into the man in front. We had stopped near one of the giant structures, it looked even taller up close. After some mumbling at the front of the regiment, we tried to get a view.

"What's happening Ross?" Seeing that he was the tallest, he probably got the best view, he just shook his head and shrugged.

"I think there is a truck and some people talking to Rouch. The hat is doing his usual of shouting at them both." I could then hear it too, Victrus being his usual 'I have an opinion in any decision'. We then heard the wine of a vox loud speaker turning on.

"Mates, drop your bags, and get up the tomb. This is your first family pict. NOW!" We did what we were told as we ran to the towering stone buildings. We clambered up. Then I just realized something. We were serving on the exact same world the first AIF was stationed. I remembered because the 11th had a pict taken on one of these structures. Printed on many biscuit tins, and on the mantle piece back home. We sat in a row on one of the steps, with the officers down front, NCO's behind them, and the privates everywhere else. Victrus and the priest stood at the side, then the pictograhper flashed.

"Good job mates, this is going to be on every biscuit tin back in Mooro." Clambering back down the structure we got to the camp. This is when we started our infantry training, by being divided into platoons.

Two infantry squads with a flamer/grenade launcher per squad. It was the core of the platoon. Some of the squads got vox casters. A six man squad of men armed with an autocannon between two. Then the command squad with a lieutenant, a medic, a vox caster operator and two men with a rocket launcher. They said that we had been chosen to do a certain role through both watching our skill and lottery. Lance managed to get a vox caster, so we will blame him if we got the orders wrong. Liam got a grenade launcher, I couldn't care less. Bolin and Zhixen managed to be in a team wielding an autocannon. The rest of us had lasguns, The sergeants got armed with laspistols and chainswords . We learnt tactics and did practice battles in the sand dunes. Learning how to carefully aim, rank fire, free fire, moving while firing, run distances, suppressive fire, and how to fire into cover. We also got a few lessons of fortification building with the only instruction being 'dig a hole'.

One thing I noticed was Victrus, he must have had ice underneath his hat because it looked like a waterfall coming down his forehead. He had his black pants, black leather boots, metal chest plate, black hat and big black leather trench coat in 40 degree heat. This didn't include all the gold stuff he had across his uniform. Meanwhile we were walking around with our hats on, shirts off and our pants rolled up to our knees. Lance, Ross, Adriano, Liam, Jackson and I were walking past him carrying sand bags over a dune. The ching twins were off doing their own exercise. He stood still on one of the dunes, the mates and I walked past him, he didn't look at us.

"Hey hat, you going to shrivel up in that coat anytime soon?" Usually he would give us his steel gaze, or even bark a threat at us. He just stood there starring off into nothing. His face was very red, and his face was blank.

"Aye you alright mate?" Adriano poked him despite our protests, Victrus then fell on his back with no reaction.

"Is he dead, quick poke him, hopefully he just died of heat stroke!" Jackson said out loud, hoping he was dead or he didn't hear that. I took out my bayonet and poked him in the hip. Quickly backing off and getting with my mates. He twitched with a groan, we looked around.

"Oh…shit he's still alive. Uh what did the Scout's say about heat stroke?" Lance stepped forward taking off the commissars coat. Scouts said to remove all unnecessary clothing so his massive coat and hat need to go.

"Do we really need to save him? Because I feel our lives would be better if we just left him here." Jackson said as he looked around at us.

"Do you want an angry hat coming after us if he remembers us?" Lance replied, while he started to remove the commissar's hat. He started to struggle.

"Mates, I think the sweat has glued his hat to his head…Grab his ankles." We did a tug'o'war with the commissar, eventually pulling the hat off his head. Lance started laughing.

"I think I found the reason of why he has a hat on all the time." We walked around to him, we then started laughing. He had the shiniest bald spot I had ever seen. I then started pouring some water on his head, to cool him down.

"Pick him up and we will get him to the medical tents." We carried him across the sand to the encampment, then Jackson stopped us.

"I don't want us to be known as the men who saved the commissar. We need to cover him with something." Suddenly Lance ran off into the camp, and thirty-seconds later returned with that rug he got from the city.

"Knew this was a good investment." After wrapping him in the rug, we just walked into the camp as subtly as possible. We reached the set of medical tents, walking up the nearest one, and knocking on one of the posts. Quickly dumping the hat on the floor, we ran. Faster than the live fire exercises, to the exercise we were now late for. The next day our platoon got lectured by the nurses on heat stroke. Victrus wasn't present for any exercises. Some of the nurses were good looking, I think some men would pretend to be wounded to get into the tents.

We could finally receive and send letters, I told my family about the experiences of being on the voidship. I told them about the planet and how it was a very exotic place. They wrote back talking about how Mum has joined the PDF. My Dad was now doing work in a factory, and Darryl was still focusing on study.

When we get leave, we went into the city. We heard of a district the veterans talked about. The veterans of the first AIF gave unofficial speeches about the women and how to tell the clean from the diseased ones.

"Boys, as soon as the clothes come off, look at the crotch. As soon as you see the rash…Get out. Don't mind if you can't get your money back, just escape with your manhood intact." Finding the district was hard, especially with the language barrier with us and the locals.

"Hey mate do you know where the chicks are?" This was Ross talking to a random citizen walking the streets late in the afternoon.

"But…You don't look like farmers?"

"Nah mate, I mean chicks, Sheila's…hens…Women?" He just looked as us as if we were drongos he then eventually understood when Ross said women.

"Oh yes, at end of this street you will find plenty of women."

"Thanks mate." We followed the street then eventually reached the district. Well, there were a lot of women that had bits and pieces showing. We had never done this before, I tried to stay away from women as much as possible. I don't know what to do, do you just walk in, do you need to have a membership or what?

"Ok mates…Let's have some fun."

 _ **THE FOLLOWING DAY**_

I woke up with the biggest hangover ever, my head felt like it was in a vice. The single light shining made my eyes feel as if they were burning up. I could also smell cigges, and lifted my head. I was in a jail cell I think, with comrades around me, they appeared to be sleeping. There was also this short hairy man in the cell, he had big hairy feet, and looked to be waist high. He had side burns and a cheeky grin on his face.

"Hey bro, thought none of you were going to wake up." He was a kiwi, we had heard of some being placed in our regiments. They didn't look to intimidating but could shoot damn well. He was loud, or it was just the effects of the hangover.

"What the fucking well happened?" I felt around my pockets, I was missing my smokes, the rattling took one out and passed it to me.

"Cheers." He then lit it for me, with a swanky gold lighter, that had a pink flame when flicked into action. He then showed it off to me.

"It's sweet as bro, managed to nick it during the riot. Well, if I remember, the district got flooded with men from AIF regiments, some men got drunk. Started to get rowdy about the diseased women and grog. It escalated into a riot. The men in bucket helmets had to show up with the PDF. The commissars leading them. Many men arrested and thrown here. My bros and I went around picking the pockets, I got caught now, I'm in here." Some of the men in the cell started to wake up, farting and burping.

"The name's Bruce mate." I reached out, he stood up and shook my hand, I was reaching very low just to get face to face with him.

"Mine is Ruru bro." As we said that two men, both PDF I'm assuming walked in and dragged me away. They then took me to a room and threw me in front of a commissar. It was Victrus. I stood straight and saluted him…I wasn't thinking straight.

"At ease guardsmen. Do you know the men who caused yesterday's riot." He was stern, I didn't know, and if I did I couldn't remember.

"I don't know sir." He nodded at the men to leave. One thing I did notice was the fact he didn't have his massive coat on. And that my crotch was very itchy.

"Well according to some guardsmen, the riot was instigated by eight AIF guardsmen of the 11th infantry regiment. Being described very similar to you and your mates. What do you think of that?" Oh fuck, what kind of guardsmen ratted out his mates. Unless it was the civilian witness's, there was a few of them.

"I would hate to be them right now." He strolled around me, then handed me a piece of paper, it read 'pardon notice'.

"For saving my life the other day, and no one got seriously injured in the riot. I am going to let you and your 'mates' off for once. And you don't say anything to anyone about my hair situation. DISMISSED" I was then thrown out into the sun, apparently I was in the PDF barracks. I fixed up my hat and clothing then went straight back to the encampment.

We remained in the capital for a few weeks, building up to months. One thing we did was to climb all the way up the giant stone structures, and write our names on it. We saw many other carvings, some from the AIF, some from other regiments, and others looking 10,000 years old. The climb was long and hard, with my arms ready to drop off by the time we got to the very top. As we found a place to carve our names into, we found a line up, with the words '1st AIF, 11th infantry'. I followed it down, and came across some familiar names. Taree, Eli and all the other old war vets back home. I guess it's like father, like son.

"Oi Bruce, what are you doing?" I waved them over, I think we could actually scratch our names into the rock near it. I took out my bayonet and got started.

"I found a place, right next to the lot from the first AIF." They agreed, we spent the rest of the afternoon chiselling into the stone. By the end of it, it read 'Second AIF, 11th infantry' with our names alongside it. We then framed it and sat on the structure to watch the sunset and ease up our legs. Then rushed down so we weren't late back.

The next few days were uneventful, but then a message went through the camp like a bush fire. Mates speaking of an ork invasion of the planet, and that the AIF was going to be the ones to respond. They were on the other side of the planet, and pushing towards the capital through the deserts. We got our bags ready, and lasguns set. All of us were excited, finally action.

"Mates, we are going to show these greenskins the power of the AIF. We leave tonight, rest up for the long march ahead." The words of colonel Rouch, as we were readying up, before sleeping I sent a letter to my family.

 **AN**

 **I am exited to post the next chapter, I may or may not post it earlier. Review please**


	10. First Combat

**Haven't written combat in a while, I hope this is fair dinkum, I like how this story is still going.**

First combat

'Dear Family

By the time you have read this, I would have experienced my first combat. I met a ratling by the name of Ruru. He seemed like a person that would get into trouble a lot, but he was a cheerful man at least. I will be leaving the city, and going into the desert. Don't worry about me, my mates have got my back and the emperor is watching over us. I will send another letter as soon as I get the chance.

Love you all, Bruce.'

That was the last letter I sent back at the capital, I was now marching through the desert. When we reach the enemy, I will be staying away from Victrus, as he stood out like a black and gold tosser. It was night time, and the temperatures plummeted, but it meant that we didn't get so exhausted. Amongst our regiment was a group of ratlings, Ruru being one of them. Rumours circulated saying be careful of them, as they will nick stuff.

The desert started to became flatter and rockier, meaning it will be harder to quickly dig a hole quickly. After several hours of marching, we jumped on the double decker busses. They were the same as civilian buses, and were transported from home. From the top deck, we could see some of the other guard regiments from other planets. There was a group in red tunics and white pith helmets called the 'praetorians'. Men in flowing robes with Leman ruses called the 'Tallarn desert raiders'.The Imperial Guard was to take this port/fortress before marching towards a space port called Alfada. Singing songs over and over again was fine, but maybe it was because if we stopped we could hear our hearts beating. Another thing that kept us calm was the stories from our sergeant.

"Ok I have been positioned on this world before, and I met this woman. The only thing that I could see were her eyes, they were total beuts mates. We talked and I really liked her. So when I got back, I was talking to my mates about her and the sergeant heard me. He said to me 'lad, the only reason she's beautiful is because her eyes are sticking out. She won't be so beautiful under those robes.' Taking my sergeant advice I walked back to her house. I knocked on the door to say we couldn't be together anymore. She didn't respond so I decided to look through the window, and she was having a wash down. There was a lot more than just her eyes sticking out." He never said his name, so we just called him sarge or sergeant, when we asked he just ignored us.

"Sir, did you see her again?" Jackson asked, the sergeant just stroked his goatee and smiled. He then twirled his laspistol around his hand.

"I won't explain what happened when her father caught me…no one died I can assure you of that." He continued to tell a couple more stories, including one when he served underground. He had a lot of stories to tell. The march took a few days, having to set up camp in the sand. We then did our best to sleep during the day and march at night, messing up our sleep patterns. Over the course of several days sarge still had more stories.

"Now my regiment was serving with another guard regiment called the Death Korps of Krieg. Grim blokes that wear gas masks all the time and big trench coats. They have absolutely no sense of self-preservation or humour. Never could take a joke. We worked in a job of digging below the enemy and striking right at their heart. I was with a group that caused an explosion so big you would see it from space." He continued to tell more war stories, then we saw something in the distance, the sun was creeping up now. It was the fort by the looks of it.

"Guardsmen, orders are to wait until around the back of the fort. When the assault on the front begins we slowly advance inwards from the rear." Everyone was surrounding Lance as the loud speaker on vox caster relayed Rouch's orders. I think we all were bit disappointed as we won't get the thick of the fighting.

We stopped, quickly getting off the buses, we started to skirmish towards our destination, a group of rocks. We were told not to dig in, as we had to move as quickly as possible. The regiment was silent, my heart was going fast, and my breath was quick. Despite the fact the day was warming up, my hands shivered. The fort was up a hill and was stone with bits of metal bolted into it, and big hulking shadows on the walls. While lying down, I noticed how much our khaki contrasted on the sand, but it was night time so maybe it helped from a distance. We lay there for a while, just feeling the course sand and looked at these figures. You could see their green skin and armour in the rising sun. Suddenly artillery went off in the distance, earthshaker canons from the sound of it. They whistled as they struck the fort with an almighty **BANG!** Shards of stone flew into the sky, and scattered everywhere. We just waited as the bombardment lasted a few minutes, taking massive chunks out of the walls. We watched as figures ran around in panic, then silence.

"ORDERS ARE TO MOVE NOW!" Lance said to the lieutenant, the officer then raised his chainsword and began running.

"ADVANCE!" We ran after him up the hill, the coarse sand meant an easier climb and eventually we were in the breaches. We then saw a mob of orks charging towards us shouting the word WAAAGH. I hit the deck and raised my lasgun, taking aim at the closest one.

"FORM RANKS AND FIRE!" The lieutenant shouted as we began to volley fire lasguns at the charging greenskins. I was working on autopilot. I was just following orders and firing in the general direction of the enemy. I couldn't tell how many there were but it was a lot of them. Eventually the autocannons managed to set up, and began to destroy the horde. The large bullets crashing into them giving a display of gore and bone shards into the air. Eventually the rest ran off. What a show it was, but I ignored most of it.

"ORDERS ARE TO MOVE SOUTH, CLEAR THEM OUT!" The loudspeaker on the vox caster said, we followed through with our platoon moving across the sand. Then suddenly the guardsmen in front of me fell to the ground. Screaming with blood pooling from his belly, I jumped over him, leaving him for the medic to find. Our squad took cover behind a building as we could hear gunfire from the distance. The rest of the platoon was spread out behind different barricades.

"THE REST OF THE PLATOON WILL COVER US! WE MAKE A BREAK TO THE NEXT WALL AND GET A GRENADE IN THAT BOX!" The sergeant was the calmest amongst us, I was scared out of my mind. I looked around the corner, orks were held up in a heavily fortified house. It was bristling with guns, and with metal all around it. I ignored the sweat falling down my face and the aching in my joints.

"NOW!" We charged to the wall, meanwhile the bunker was hammered with lasguns, autocannons, a snap shot from the grenade launcher, and even a hit from a rocket launcher. I couldn't help notice that Adriano wasn't with us. When we reached the wall I looked back to see him on the ground. He was slowly crawling leaving a red trail behind him.

"Come on mate!" Adriano reached out for us and Jackson stretched out to take his hand. My hands were shaking uncontrollably, but I tried to suppress the feeling to run or cower. I was terrified, but it wasn't the enemy that was scary. Training said the reason you don't run is to not let down your mates, that was what I was terrified about. Jackson then quickly dragged Adriano behind the wall.

"Hold the wound shut with some bandages, then leave him!" The sergeant yelled as we ducked back into cover, I pulled off my backpack and found the bandages.

"HE NEEDS TO GET OUT OF HERE! HE'S GOING TO FUCKING DIE!" Ross said as he clamped his hand over the wound. The wound was on his right thigh. Adriano was a mix of being in agony and petrified. I began wrapping the khaki bandage around the leg. The blood soaked unto the bandage turning it red.

"WE DON'T HAVE TIME! BANDAGE THE WOUND! THE STRETCHER BEARERS WILL GET TO HIM! NOW GO AVENGE HIM!" Suddenly the sergeant picked up Ross by his webbing and pushed him over the wall. With instinct he began running, with bullets skimming off his armour, and clipping his hip **.** With the adrenalin he ignored the pain and slammed into the bunker wall. Taking a frag grenade off his belt he pulled the pin. Suddenly a greenskin rounded the corner, swinging a crude axe. Ross quickly ducked, as the axe blade bat off his helmet and dug into the wall. Ross went forward with his bayonet, sticking it into the face of the ork. The ork ignoring the bayonet, swung again, roaring the word WAAAGH! Ross dodged again and fell on his back backing away with his bayonet pointed at the ork. Suddenly the grenade exploded, and the ork fell forward landing on Ross. He didn't move.

"SHIT, BRUCE GO GET HIM!" Without hesitating or thinking I jumped the wall into the hail of bullets. I ran towards the bunker, sliding across the sand and started dragging the ork off Ross, I looked down at him. He was covered in ork blood, and had bits of charred skin down the front of him.

"Bloody hell they pong" He smiled, I helped him up and we both got a grenade ready. We then lobbed them into the gun holes. The bunker went silent for a second, then the sound of moving and panicking xenos.

"WAT DA ZOG?" The grenades went off as dust flew out of the gun holes, along with chunks of the enemy. Something was very entertaining about it. Ross picked up his helmet, then we met up with the others.

"KEEP MOVING!" We moved behind the bunker. We were met by two orks, with bits of shrapnel lodged into them. Burns down their bodies, despite their war cries they didn't stand up to our lasguns. We moved through the craters and shelled out buildings with our platoon gunning down any orks in our way. They varied in size, with most being the height of us but some being almost twice the size. Many were strewn about from the bombardments, we finished the ones that still moved. Despite the fact massive chunks were missing from their bodies many still moved. A bayonet to the head worked well to finish them off. That was until we came up against an ork that was missing his head, and just stumbling around. The only area left was the inner fortress. We watched it for several minutes.

"You think Adriano will be ok?" Bolin said with the auto cannon leaning on his shoulder, and Zhixen sitting next to him. The whole platoon sat in a ruined house, lighting up some ciggies, Ross still covered in blood and burnt skin. I was still trembling but not as bad this time, and my breathing was more under control.

"The thought of meeting the nurses would keep him alive through anything. They are good lookers." Last time I saw him he was screaming and had the look of pure terror in his eyes, and a gaping hole in his leg.

"Well, at least he didn't get intimate with an ork, like Ross did." We all laughed, we then ducked as bullets rattled the side of the house. Sergeant didn't move, he just continued smoking, then taking a sip of his water bottle.

"I think we have killed at least 10 of the bastards." Zhixen said, Zhixen was the man to carry the ammunition around while Bolin fired the actual gun.

"Well you are firing bullets the size of toilet rolls. They're going to put some big holes in them." Liam said, loading a fresh drum into his grenade launcher. I could see the large bullets that Zhixen was carrying, and a massive gun to spew them out.

"We managed to kill a few didn't we Ross?" I said, he just nodded, I think he was a bit shaken up about getting that close to an ork. Lance walked towards us, throughout the conversation he was in the corner with the vox caster. Listening to the ear piece. He then said something to the lieutenant, he stood up to speak to the whole platoon.

"Tank will take the doors off with a shell. Hopefully they will just come at us. Take aim at the door." We did exactly what he said, as the platoon moved behind cover to aim at the door. A single Leman Russ rolled up the door with ork bullets skimming off the hull. It fired a single battle cannon shell turning the wooden door to splinters. For a few minutes the only noise heard was the rumble of the tank engines.

"WAAAGH!" Out of the gate came a massive ork, standing nine feet high and covered in armour advancing directly towards us. Followed by a mob of smaller ones. Our lasguns just skimmed off the armour, and the auto cannons just seemed to annoy it. He charged into one of the other platoons, flaying its massive claw and guns around in rage. Liams grenade launcher shot a krak grenade at it, it only flinched. We massacred them at range, but as soon as they got close. It was a bloodbath as men were flunch and sliced. Then suddenly a fiery bright blue ball hit the nob, it then finally fell to the ground. Victrus slowly walked over it, with a plasma pistol in one hand and a power sword in the other. Stepping over the corpses of what used to be a platoon, and holding the sword above the ork.

"YOUZ LOT JUST WAIT 'TIL DA SPIKY UNZ GETZ YOUZ LOT!" Victrus silenced it by stabbing the beasts brain. He then stood atop of it and looked at us all, holding his sword in the air triumphantly

"Another triumph for the imperial Guard over the foul xenos, the first of many on this planet…What are you waiting for guardsmen? Follow your officers and purge the remaining filth." For the rest of the day we went through the fortress stabbing and shooting any greenskins still moving.

"What did he mean by spiky ones?" I didn't take note of what Liam said, I was trying to shoot a tiny green creature running away. It had a massive nose and was very scrawny. Eventually my lasgun burned a hole in its back.

 **AN**

 **Thank you for reading this far, reviews are appreciated (I have grown addicted). See you next chapter in a week.**


	11. Clean up

**This chapter is a bit late, but I am still having fun writing it. Read on.**

Clean Up

Right after the battle we were put to work dragging the greenskins into heaps, then pouring promethium onto the bodies and setting them alight. The pong was rancid, it smelt like when my mum cooked mushrooms. The veterans told us, the ones that were the height of us were called 'boys' and the bigger ones were called 'nobs'. We could not stop laughing at the name. We kept making up sentences for it.

"But guess what's even funnier." Sarge said, the whole squad was dragging a 'nob' into one of the piles. We all looked in his direction.

"The one that was decked out in all the armour. They are called mega nobs." At that moment we lost it. Bloody hell who came up with these names?

"Hey, at least the nob used protection." Jackson's joke made us all laugh a bit more. I also learnt the very small creatures were called 'gretchin' or 'grots'. We also kept on finding little red creatures known as 'squigs'. Apparently they make good makeshift footballs, after you stitched up the holes.

We ate field rations, which were mostly meat but we all called it bully beaf and hard biscuits that were painful to eat without water. Most of the time the bully beaf cans would break when opening and we had to use a bayonet to cut the rest open. Sometimes we could get processed cheese and fish to spread on the biscuits. Grain-bix was also given out, but usually that was eaten for breakie with watered down condensed milk. It was finished off with a rolled mint.

We found out that Adriano was being taken back to the capital with the rest of the wounded. To fill in for current casualties the heavy weapons squads were placed into normal squads. So the twins were now in our squad. After a few days ciggies arrived. I received a letter. It was written by my Mum.

'Dear Bruce

You better not have died by the time you get this letter. It feels strange to be back in flak armour with lasgun in hand. Your dad would have joined as well but good legs are out of the budget right now. Darryl has been doing stuff for the war effort in scouts, such as scrap metal collecting and filling jobs that were vacant. Rationing has begun as the planetary tithe has risen. Meat is pretty much off the stove now. How are you going?

Love, your mum'

I immediately grabbed a pen and paper and started writing down a letter of my own. I was using my helmet to lean the paper on, as the tables were all used. My mates and I were sitting around the portable stove, with billy tea brewing. Jackson was the best when it came to billy tea, we knew that from our time in scouts. He did say that he descended from a long line of swagmen, and that his family was always wandering. Maybe that was the reason it was so dysfunctional. I then continued writing.

'Dear mum

I am still alive and well, and most of my mates are. Adriano was badly wounded in the last battle. We are fighting orks right now, and gave them a good pounding. We took out lots of them with lasguns and grenades. Food is ok, it may not have changed since your days in the AIF. Tell Darryl and Dad that I am ok and I will be fine.

Love Bruce'

I then placed the letter into the sack as the posty man moved onto the other squads. Jackson then picked up the tea tin and walked into open area.

"Mates I hope you haven't forgotten the swinging of the billy." He then started to swing the billy back and forth, getting higher and higher with each swing.

"I bet you can kill an ork with that." Zhixen said, since the water was boiling it may actually be possible.

"Imagine that, being able to say to someone that you killed an ork with a billy can." Bolin replied, swinging it around, he then started pouring it into our mess tins. In some ways it tasted like burnt grass, but much better when drowned in condensed milk. It tasted like home in a lot of ways.

"Nothing like the tea we had in scouts mates." Ross said. The tea had a bitter sweet taste to it, along with the usual tea flavour. one thing I noticed was the rattling group had a massive pot. I skulled the rest of my tea, and then walked over to them. Ruru looked up to see me.

"Hey bro, you want some?" He took the pipe out of his mouth. In the pot was a mixture of meat and vegetables. None of which I have seen before.

"Will it give me the shits if I do?" The group of ratlings laughed. There were five of them. There was Ruru, one was a chick, one had a long coat, one had a camouflage cloak and the last one was bald and was standing over the pot.

"Hope not, here try some." The bald ratling scooped out some of the stew and slopped it into my mess tin. I gave it a taste. It tasted like mushrooms, bully beef, and various spices that I didn't recognize.

"If you wonder what I put in it you should ask yourself if you really want to know." I noticed that there was a slight green tinge to the entire stew. By the time he said that I already had swallowed the greenish thing.

"What is it?" I asked, they all laughed and then the bald one reached for a burlap sack, he opened it up. Inside was a selection of meats, fruits vegetables and grasses.

"Just some stuff we got from the capital…And some of the commissars special rations. The departo munitorium rations are dog shit and we ratlings like to eat." He then closed the sack, I took another mouthful of the stew and walked back to my mates.

"Who was that Bruce?" Lance said as I sat back down and began to clean my mess tin by rubbing sand into it. Something that was very easy to come across.

"A mate and his group of ratlings. Gave me some tucker." After, cleaning the mess tin I went for a smoke, I felt my pocket and there was nothing. I knew for certain that I had some in my right pocket, Sarge started chuckling.

"You just had a run in with some ratlings mate. First rule is watch your pockets." I looked back to see the kiwis with a packet of ciggies. I also saw Victrus on the prowl. He didn't have his coat on for past mistakes. He would do this on occasion, walk around and look at all the groups. He passed us, staring into the billy, then walked away. He kept on going until he stopped at the ratling squad. I got up and waved my mates over, I wanted to see how this went.

"Abhuman, explain what is in this stew please." I couldn't hear what the ratling were saying, but I did see the ralting with a coat reaching into the pocket of the commissar. But the commisar was onto him, grabbing the kiwi by the wrist.

"DARE YOU STEAL FROM A OFFICIO PREFECTUS COMMISSAR! YOU SHALL BE PUNISHED!" Victurs started dragging him away, I wondered if we should help, but he did have it coming. Victrus might be more observant than we think.

We were told to wait for orders from higher up, We finally got the name of the man leading this entire battle. A man called Lord General Militant Python. A very long and strange name but apparently a good commander. Women were now being placed in our regiment, spread out amongst the companies. Up until now they were only used as auxiliaries, but now were serving on the front lines. This happened to be on the same day our regiment were stripped of our uniforms and had them placed in dye vats. The women probably weren't complaining about the men walking around in only their underwear.

"Does it sometimes seem sexier to have a woman in uniform?" Lance was just looking at a squad of women drilling, while the rest of us were helping the sappers repair a wall.

"How about you stop fantasizing and help us you ass." We all yelled. He then went back to helping us lift rocks into the breach, which would then get roughly propped up. Eventually we got our uniforms back. The uniforms were now a light tan colour, but our slouch hats, flak armour and webbing remained khaki.

We got a letter from Adriano.

'Hey mates

They say that it would be fine, and that I will live. I will be back to combat in several weeks. The nurses are nice and I will tell you what you're missing out. They are stunning. But some are a bit dumb. My leg is still quite sore, The bullet nicked a major blood vessel. I hope that you are all well and that you smashed those greenskins.

See you soon, Adriano'

We weren't to wait for him, Soon orders were brought from high command. We would again march through the night. This time we would attack the spaceport of Alfada and take it from the orks. That was to come. But now it was time to kick a footie and see if it landed on Victrus's head.

 **AN**

 **I hope you are all having fun reading this story. I am enjoying how it is going so far. Please leave a review and see you next time.**


	12. Into Alfada

**I have done this one a bit late. Sorry for that, continue.**

Into Alfada

'Dear Bruce

Work at the factory has been hard, but I know that you may get a charge pack that I have made. My metal leg snapped again, due to rationing I am now on a peg leg. The news reports say that you were in a great victory. I am proud of you for fighting those greenskin bastards and destroying them. I hope they didn't say the victory was like they said Gali was a tactical withdraw. Hope you and you mates are fair dinkum.

Love, Dad'

A few more days marching. We were always ready and exited to slay even more orks, and now we knew how they fought.

We saw it in the distance, a spaceport that was even bigger than the one in Mantle. Below was a big town that was about a quarter the size of the space port, and was well lit up. We will attack again in the early morning, and they say it will be like this for the rest of the campaign. This time most of the AIF were fighting, and the commanders say it will be an easy victory. Our platoon was ready. We were crouching behind a leman russ waiting for Lance to give the signal. The company was ready for the attack. The sun began heating up my back, and I started to get the shakes again, but I could see others having it much worse. I really needed to go and piss but I didn't want to look like a coward. The commissar wasn't with us today instead we had the priest. The tank squadron was piloted by Aralians instead of Praetorians or Tallarns. I wondered how they survived in them. From our position (about 20 metres away) the tanks smelt horrible and I think I saw some men using the hull to cook an egg. The tank crew were all wearing next to nothing, but it must be like driving a cooking pot. The noise of the gun was loud outside the tank. It must be deafening on the inside. Our initial plan was to sit on the tank's and let them ride us in. But we were afraid our asses would melt to the metal.

Lance gave a thumbs up. Our platoon stood up with the rest of the company. The tanks belched fumes out there blackened exhausts and began rumbling forward. We jogged after them, far enough behind them so the sand didn't get into our face. My crotch began to flare up again, so I was trying to scratch it while jogging after the tank.

"You hear that lads, the sound of the Imperial war machine." The sergeant shouted over the noise of the tank engine.

"It's a bit loud." Liam shouted back, the noise was very loud, but load not as the sounds of battle, or Dick's shouting.

"That's the point, nothing strikes more fear into the enemy than the sound of a Leman Russ. The only sound that is worse is one of a baneblade!" I had a vague idea of what a baneblade due to Sergeants stories. Suddenly bullets began pinging off the hull of the Leman Russ. Up ahead was a small group of orks. A deep boom sounded as the battle cannon fired. I couldn't see the result. The side sponson heavy bolters lit up, spraying bullets across the desert. We just kept on running. Then the tank began gaining speed, faster than we could run.

"RUN AWAAAaaa!" The noise was followed by the sound of cracking and crunching as an ork nobb was dragged under the tracks of the tank. It made a squelching noise as the full weight of the tank went on it. It was left in the sand a squashed mess with the rest of the mob, the tank began slowing down, so we could catch up.

"You see that mates, what happens when you stand up the war machine of the imperium. It certainly didn't end well for them." The town limits were not much further away, but there was a lot of orks in the way, they began firing.

"TAKE COVER!" The lieutenant ordered. An explosion hit the sand near us, with a high pitched crack and dust flying into our eyes. We went to ground and quickly grouped up behind the tank, quickly firing around the sides of the tank hull.

"Don't fret mates, they couldn't hit a barn door if they were two metre aw-BY THE EMPEROR!" The sergeant yelled before a shell struck the tank. Sending the treads flailing off and bringing the leman russ to a halt. The tank continued firing, but we were now pinned down. We began firing shots at the orks, peaking around the corner.

"CALL IN AN ARTILLERY STRIKE ON THEM!" Lance began shouting into the vox radio, more shots managed to hit the tank. It got very hard to ignore the heat of the engine we were hiding behind, it was starting to blister our skin.

"3…2…1…boom." Lance said, then the whistling began, with the sound of earthsaker cannon shells exploding into the ork gun line. As soon as the explosions stopped the lieutenant raised his chainsword.

"FORWARD FOR THE EMPEROR!" We fixed bayonets surged forward, across the desert and over the dead. We fired upon the remaining xenos as they moved and struggled in the dust clouds. We kept up a steady stream of fire while moving. I knelt and aimed at a charging greenskin, my trembling persisted as I did a three round burst. The first shot hit him in the chest, it didn't even flinch. The second also hit the body. However now a hole formed. The ork dropped his gun to hold the wound shut. The third missed completely, I have no idea were it went. The ork hit the sand with a thud, at my feat. I jumped over him, continuing to purge this filth from the galaxy. Eventually they ran, and when they did they were cut down by lasrounds. We then got a chance to sit down and wait for orders, the rest of the company stopped. The tank crew got out and began to try fix the tank treads. We were a one minute walk from Alfada. We lit up some smokes and drunk some water. Looking around I saw many dead gretchin, with poorly built artillery. They were very easy to kill, I think I accidentally kicked one when charging.

"I don't think the emperor likes people who talk too soon sergeant." I said. The sergeant was currently wiping his chainsword clean of ork. He smiled and took the ciggie out of his mouth, blowing out the smoke.

"I didn't know there were gretchin firing the guns. they can hit a barn door half the time." Looking over to the left, the medic was tending to wounded with a priest giving last rights to the dead. We had taken eight casualties during the charge. Jackson had a bloody nose from being punched in the face by a greenskin, he was soldiering on pretending he wasn't wounded. But given states I have found him in from his parent's abuse, it was nothing. He was a tough bastard. The medic gave it a couple staples and a bandage. Bolin had a couple scratches up his leg. Apparently a grot clawed at his leg with a knife. But the cuts weren't deep, he said they stung a bit when he moved.

"Ooooh I got the big gun but I got jumped by a bloody grot." Zhixen mocked, Bolin pushed his brother over with a grin, they then got into a pushing contest. Just a brotherly type of fight. Lance then came into the middle of the platoon with the loud speaker talking.

"Each company will advance into the town. The entire force will regroup at the space port." We followed the orders, advancing with our company into the built up area. One of the surviving Leman russ's lead the way. Up ahead an ork vehicle came screaming around the corner. It was painted red and looked like a ute made out of scrap metal with a number of orks in the back. They screamed as they headed straight for the leman russ.

"WAAAGH!" That was the most popular last word of many orks as the battle cannon fired. The ork vehicle did a front flip through the air and landed in front of the advancing tank. We could hear the leman russ crew laughing as the tank rumbled over the burnt shell of the vehicle.

"That mates is known as an ork trukk. What happens when a group of orks visit the local tip. They make a car that has oven pans for armour and a beer bottle for a clutch." We followed the tank until we reached a bridge, it was made of stone and was over a large fast flowing river.

"Keep a look out mates, a perfect place for an ambush!" Sergeant said as we followed the tank across the bridge. Again the sergeant spoke too soon, when the leman russ was half way across the bridge, explosions started going off.

The stone below me fell away. I went back with the stone crumbling under the soles of my boot. Lance lunged out with his hand, all the while ork guns rattled against the surrounding area. I felt his finger tips as I fell and splashed into the water, I began sinking quickly. The weight of my gear pulled me down, the water had a greenish tinge to it, too thick to see anything. I let go of my backpack and my breath was starting to slip, I then went for my webbing struggling at the buckle. I was struggling with my lungs begging to open my mouth, my hands still fumbled on the latch. The worse part was that even if my webbing came off, my armour was still on. I gave up and decided to attempt a breath. But when I struggled to the surface I saw a ladder on the shoreline. When I passing I managed to grab on and pulled myself out of the water. But now I had no idea were I was in the town. I only had a bayonet and some wet frag grenades for weapons. I peaked up, I was on the edge of a building with a sort of alley and a window nearby. I got up and shimmied along the ledge, I heard voices in the building as I got nearer.

"We'z didn't know dat dey would be ere zo quik. If wez knew we would 'ave krumped dem by now." From the frustrated groan, the greenskin was talking to someone else.

"Your incompetence is not going to be tolerated any longer. You have failed to get anywhere close the capital and the servants of the false emperor had enough time to fully mobilise. Now they are pushing your forces back. You better go out and win this battle now or don't come back at all." The voice was grainy and hoarse. It was definitely not an ork talking. The ork did a roar and smashed something wooden.

"MY BOYZ ARE BETTA AT FOITEN DEN YOUZ SPIKY UMIES! DEY WILL SMASH DA LOT OF DEM IN A FEW TICKS!" He was pissed, as he punched a hole in the wall near me. I nearly got a massive claw to the back of my head.

"Well, they aren't holding up to what you promised. I bet if I looked out that window right now, I will see some Imperial dogs looking back at me." I heard him coming to the window, I didn't have anywhere to go. He looked left, not facing me. He had a horn on one side of his face, and sickly looking skin. Some weird symbols were on his clothing, looking like spiky stars. He then looked right, I jumped as the man probably shat his pants, and I ended up back in the flowing water. I kept on struggling to keep my head above the water. Eventually I got another place to climb up out of the river. I was near another bridge, I looked around and then saw a group of orks up ahead.

"GET EM WAAAGH!" I fucking ran, I think there was 6 of them, but my guess form the sound of the boots, maybe more. I went through the streets with bullets whizzing past. Then an explosion went off behind me, I looked back to see one of the orks dead on the ground. The other orks looked around, then suddenly dropped one by one, doing a twirl. They had holes in the head of each of them.

"I GOT HIM NOT YOU!" I looked up, it came from the buildings. It was a woman and the accent was not Aralian.

"BULLSHIT, THAT WAS MY KILL!" That voice was male and it was definitely kiwi. Out of the window a face with sideburns popped out. He smiled, and I smiled back as I waved to him.

"Oh, hey Bruce, were's your squad!" Ruru's lot were in the building, they were also poking their sniper rifles out the windows

"I just went for a quick swim mate."

 **AN**

 **I hope you are enjoying the story, I have hopefully ironed out all mistakes. Please leave a review. Thank you**

 **I haven't updated for two weaks, sorry about that but it has been busy. Thank you.**


	13. Sickening

**Sorry for the while to update, editing was slow and it was busy. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

Sickening

"What were you doing in the river Bruce?" Ruru asked, I was drying out as the sun began to bake my clothing. Even though most of the time we were in the shadow of the spaceport.

"Well, the bridge I was on exploded and I fell into the river. Got carried downstream, now I am here. But that wasn't the weird part." They all stopped taking turns aiming and looked at me.

"What bro?" I had the full attention of the squad, only the bald one was not listening. He was eating a piece of dried meat, and drinking from a flask.

"I heard a man and an ork talking. The man was dressed in spiky stars and had a horn sticking out of his head." Ruru's face looked to be in deep thought. The others were a bit confused. The bald one just kept on eating.

"Should have lobbed a grenade in," the bald one said. The others began to eat as well. Except Ruru, who was looked to be thinking very hard to himself.

"Oh shit I didn't think to do that." Why did I not lob a grenade in? I would get credit for killing someone important. The ratlings didn't seem to care that much. I think the backpacks of the ratlings were mostly full of food, and their potbellies seemed to prove that statement. Ruru was still looking at the ground, twirling a ciggie around his mouth.

"Ruru, something wrong cuz?" Ruru snapped out of his trance and shook his head, continuing to spit the smoke out of his mouth. He then stamped it out with his bare foot. We went back to moving along the empty streets.

"Mates I would like to mention…I don't have a gun." The kiwi's had their rifles looking around. While I looked like an idiot with my bayonet out. At least my slouch hat survived, my stomach was gurgling, I felt like I was going to be sick.

"We'll find one soon bro. Just make sure your blade doesn't shine." We kept on moving. Eventually we found a squad of guardsmen. Ruru looked through his gun scope.

"OI MA-!" Ruru pulled me into cover with a finger over his mouth, gesturing me to be quite, The others had slid into hiding. We waited for a minute. As we hid, we could hear voices approaching. The cloaked ratling gave a couple hand gestures, running a ringer across her neck. Ruru shook his head.

"Who were they?" We then began to carefully move throughout the buildings. I had only seen an outline, before Ruru got me into cover.

"The type of people I killed when I was on Cadia. Heretical scum." He replied, I thought we were only fighting orks, but was that why a man was talking with an ork?

"What are heretics doing here?" I asked him as we left the cover. There was a very concerned look on Ruru's face.

"Don't know bro. But we're not going to treat them differently to the orks." As we continued through the buildings, picking off the occasional ork. I really felt like vomiting, I must have picked up something while in the water. We found a trail of dead. We followed the trail until we turned a corner. A lasround scrapped the brick.

"IMPERIUM?" The accent was Aralian, and it came from around the corner.

"ARE YOU?" Ruru shouted back, we couldn't risk looking around the corner. If we did we would probably have a burn through us.

"I AM!" The man around the corner shouted, Ruru looked unsure, he then came back to us.

"He could be lying cuz's." We could hear some other voices around the corner, so there may be more of them.

"ARE YOU IMPERIUM OR NOT?" He shouted again, I knew the correct answer to this type of question, I went to the corner of the wall. The kiwi's looked at me as if I was mad.

"FUCK OFF!" I shouted. We all stopped, then we heard boots coming up around the corner. Then a lone AIF guardsman appeared.

"Good answer mate. We're up the road if you want to join us." We followed him, he lead us to a group of guardsmen held up in a building. A lieutenant was standing in the middle of the room, shouting into a vox caster.

"NO HUMANS! WE ARE BEING SHOT AT BY OTHER HUMANS! DO YOU THINK I'M A DUMB ASS? IF IT WAS FREIDLEY FIRE THEY WOULD HAVE STOPPED AFTER THE FIRST TWO VOLLEYS! Fucking idiots!" The lieutenant looked at us as we entered the room, the room smelt of smokes and gunpowder. Two heavy bolters let off bursts out the window. A line of wounded guardsmen were on the ground. Many other guardsmen were smoking.

"Who are you lot?" The lieutenants face was red, but from the tone he was shouting into the vox caster, he was frustrated.

"Name's Ruru bro, ratling squad attached to the 11th infantry…and our mascot." He pointed to me and I gave him an informal salute.

"Private Bruce Duwal of the 11th infantry sir!" The lieutenant informally saluted back, I then stood at ease, the ratlings couldn't care less.

"Where's your equipment private?" He had a moustache, which seemed to be a following trend amongst most veterans. Either that metal body parts or a beard.

"At the bottom of the river sir." He didn't really care about that remark, as he picked up his power sword and went to the door.

"Go get a lasgun off one of the dead. You're all free to join us if you wish. MEN WE'RE ON THE MOVE!" The rest of the platoon picked up their weapons. I walked outside and turned the corner, I saw a couple bodies. Their wounds ranged from severed arms and legs to gunshot wounds, and even a man with the entire top of his head gone. I went to the first one, where I pried the lasgun off him. His grip was still strong, as if he was still hanging on to the gun in death. His eyes were still open. A cold stare of a man that had lived his last moments. He looked no older than me. He probably had a family back home waiting for him, and they will get a message. Telling then the fate of their son.

The atmosphere was far more tense, with the introduction of heretics. The orks would announce their presence easily and their lack of straight shooting meant time. Time to set up and get a few shots off into them. From what Victrus said on the ship, heretics were all lunatics, but Ruru could also give some tips.

"Bro from the look of their uniforms, they are professional. Their guns work aswell as yours, but they aren't as tough as orks. So take cover and shoot straight. And sometimes they have tactics, and surprise…the commissar still right on them being nuts." We were moving through the streets, when we heard engines overhead. A vehicle flew over us, it streaked over fast as we watched from the ground.

"What the fuck is that?" I asked, as the towns buildings were far apart, we could get a good view of the flyer.

"Valkyrie bro, used to transport troops. That one had heretic glyphs on it." I had no clue what a valkyrie was. We kept moving.

"Probably had their leader on it. I would shoot at the pilot if I was good enough." We then went back to walking through the streets. It was very quite, I hoped my mates were fair dinkum.

"Left here platoon, we shall be at the centre in a couple of…oh…fuck." As we turned the corner we were met with a massive horde of orks. Lead by the biggest ork I have ever seen, bigger than a nob, he had a massive klaw on his hand. They were about 100 metres away, and the big one was shouting.

"WEZ NOT RUNNIN YA GITS, WEZ REPO-REPOS-REPOSI…WEZ MOVIN AWAY FOR A BIT!" Then it stopped talking, then we just glared at each other. We were scared shitless, an ork standing about five metres high. He was surrounded by a group of nobs, and some boys. Why they didn't charge us instantly was beyond me. I think they may have been dumbstruck, that we hadn't shot them already.

"GET EM! WAAAGH!" I backed off and I began to tremble. We were outnumbered, and with not enough fire power. I felt that running was much better than facing them.

"HOLD YOUR GROUND MEN, RANK FIRE!" I went prone, my lasgun aiming directly for the biggest ork. I then began to pull the trigger constantly. No one bothering to fire in an orderly fashion.

Orks fell going face first into the sand, lasrounds going through them. The heavy bolters also did a lot of damage, but we only chipped away at them. The biggest one kept on moving with chunks of his flesh missing. I then looked around, and Ruru's lot had just fucked off. The bloody ratlings had just ran off and left us here for the greenskins. I ignored the dust being kicked into my eyes, with the lasgun still firing. One thing I noticed was these orks had better armour than their kin. I went to the buttons on my gun. I pushed the option of overcharge mode, making the gun slightly more powerful. Dick said only to use this option unless the enemy was not numerous, I said fuck that. With the orks 75 metres away my charge pack ran dry. Clipping the release the empty pack fell out onto the sand. I then fiddled with my webbing until I reached the next pack. I slammed the pack in. Now the orks were twenty five metres away. I went to overload mode on the lasgun. Making the gun twice as powerful, but with only fifteen shots a charge pack. Dick said that more shots were better, but as if I was going to get off more than fifteen shots. Grenades were also being hurled, blowing limbs off some greenskins.

"FALL BACK!" I got up and began backing off, but despite the fact we were moving, the orks were upon us.

"UZE FLASHIES ARE STINGING A BIT!" The biggest of the orks swiped his power klaw, breaking flak armour and bones. Still holding firm, one of the nobs brought his choppa down on me and I held up my lasgun. Splintering the wood and bending the metal, I fell under the weight of the blow. As the blade went down again, I knew the lasgun was not going to take any more force. Suddenly blood spurted from the head of the ork. It fell backwards. I quickly looked to my left. Coming down on me was a power klaw of a very big, green and angry mushroom.

 **AN**

 **Who doesn't like a good cliffhanger, also thanks for the recent follows and favorite's of the story. Please leave a review and see you next time.**


	14. Green Intervention

**Sorry for the irregular updates, I have been busy and I will try and get another one out this weekend. Hope you enjoy.**

Green Intervention

I saw the blur of green hitting green with the impact of flesh and metal as the boy hit. The massive ork was on the ground, the others looked around then ran off in panic. I was holding a lasgun with a bent barrel and splintered chassis. The rest of the platoon looked around with the same confused expression as me. It was only a few seconds ago that the greenskin was tearing through us. I was about to be killed, then an ork fell from the sky. An ork boy lay dead on top of the bigger one. I got off my ass and looked around. Several members of the platoon were dead. Even the lieutenant was trying to figure out what happened.

"…Take the cold meat tickets off the dead. Let's just keep going." I fixed my helmet and took a new lasgun from one of the casualties, the second one I have been through today. As I walked I saw a slouch hat flying down, it landed on the side of the road. I picked it up and took a look. The tag had a name on it. Just looking at the bad hand writing, it was Ross's.

The rest of the battle was a clean up operation, as orks and renegades made their way out of the town. After passing through other AIF regiments and foriegners I found the 11th. I eventually found my squad.

"Oh look who came back from their swim." Zhixen said as I walked towards them. They were sitting in front of a building that had probably been a shop.

"Refreshing in the green river or no?" Bolin followed up. Looking around I couldn't see Lance amongst them.

"Where's Lance?" They looked at each other, not in a good way either.

"Got an introduction to the heretics. The medic says he will be fine, but it will take a couple weeks." I felt acid coming up my throat, and vomited, not from the news but my stomach was churning. I went for my water bottle, then remembered it was at the bottom of the river. Ross passed me his water bottle.

"No lips all right." I poured the bottle as to not have my lips touch the rim, then I swirled it around my mouth. I needed to know what happened to Lance. I spat out the mix of water and bile.

"Cheers…Now get back to Lance." I took another drink, this time I swallowed the water. I passed it back and sat down.

"Well, this is how the story went." Sergeant began…Again with another story.

 **What happened then**

"Will the command find out a tank went missing?" The lower half of their uniforms were wet, but now they were at the port. A platoon from the 28th was already there, standing around with ciggies in mouths. A sergeant stood up and walked over to them. The priest broke off giving the last rights to the dead. The mates saluted with the sergeant returning.

"Where's your lieutenant soldier?" Our lieutenant said to the other sergeant, he was experienced but not as much as our sergeant.

"Dead sir, sniper bullet to the brain, I'm the most experienced one here." He pointed the corpse of the lieutenant, resting against the wall with the rest of the dead.

"Last time I checked orks don't have snipers." But then I already new what it was going to be, they didn't at the time.

"Well, we aren't dealing with orks anymore sir." The sergeant walked over and threw a helmet on the ground. Bits of brain and skull remained, but it was spiky and had the star on it. The officers and vets had a concerned look on his face.

"The mark of heretics has come brothers." The priest entered the conversation with the lieutenant and sergeant. He torched the helmet with a short burst of the flamer.

"High command says that we wait until reinforcements arrive." Lance was relaying the situation to high command. Then tapped the lieutenant on the shoulder.

"Sir, I have just informed high command and they have just given us the all clear." He said, the lieutenant walked to the space port elevator. The panel looked like it had been smashed and had a bullet hole in the terminal.

"Does it work?" Liam said at the back, Lance stepped forward, he was the techie expert after all. He examined the terminal and proceeded to rip off the buttons. He then continued to join wires together. The platform creaked but didn't move. He proceeded to look at the pulleys and chain lifts.

"Just a bigger version of the lifts at the factory mates. I will get it up in no time." The rest hurried up and waited. Lance dug through the set of tools on his webbing and began to tinker. Eventually Lance emerged with his sleeves rolled up and covered in oil and grime.

"Shit mates it's buggered." As Lance said that, Ross pushed him out the way and raised his lasgun over the main engines.

"This works on the ute." Lance bashed it with the butt of this lasgun, suddenly the engine coughed to life and rumbled.

"I…I did most of that mate." Lance responded, the others laughed. Then they stepped onto the platform and began to move up. A few minutes of slow moving eventually had them sit down, talking to each other.

"How in the emperors name did that get the thing running?" Lace said, they hadn't extinguished their ciggies, Lance was cleaning the grime off his hands.

"Machine spirit like the beating?" Bolin said, we all new what a machine spirit was, but we didn't really know why it existed.

"Bullshit if you ask me, this lift shouldn't be moving at all." Lance ranted, Sergeant was again off in the corner, slowly dragging through a ciggie.

"If a cogboy heard that you would get an axe in the back of your head." Sergeant said. The lift then jerked violently, but kept going up. Everyone in the squad braced, minus the sergeant.

"I fucking love machines but I can't stand those metal heads. One day in the factory the locks on a lift holding up a car fell while two people were under it. ***WHAM*** They start screaming and screaming, we're all trying to get it up. Doing our best to save those poor blokes, then you have the red hooded fucker at the back shouting. 'IS THE MACHINE OK?'…One of the blokes was bent like paper and the other would never walk again." While they talked, the lift got up to the top and they were met with renegades. Dressed in shambles of rusty and spiky flak armour, a mixture of clothes ranging from local garb to ragged uniforms. They were sitting around with smokes and grog. They looked at the guardsmen. The renegades quickly stood up waving their hands in the air in hopes of surrender.

"What do we do now sir?" They all waited for the lieutenant, but as he turned lasrounds flew through the air. The heretics took cover, flipping over tables and scrambling for their weapons. The guardsmen took cover behind anything they could. While others just went prone and kept their heads low. The two sides exchanged rounds with some more fanatic mutants or heretics charging. Suddenly a lasround dug itself into Lance's shoulder, with another lasround going into his abdomen. He fell backwards, writhing around shouting in pain. The two sides wore each other away with the light show, and the occasional grenade. The heretical guardsmen were the ones to actually use cover, unlike orks or mutants. They also were better at shooting, as Ruru said. However their weapons and armour were poorer in quality. While both sides took cover, the priest got up and held his chainsword aloft.

"Guardsmen, every second the heretics stand is a blasphemy towards the emperor and this planet. Not only do they defy the emperors benediction, they work with the greenskin menace. Xenos, xenophiles and heretics will not be given mercy. We shall light them in the holiness of your weapons and faith. Avenge your comrades and kill these infidels." He then charged forward, with the guardsmen following him. Unprepared the renegades desperately scrambled for any weapon they could. The holy aura of the priest protected the imperial guardsmen.

The butt of Ross's lasgun collided with the sickly pale skin of a heretic. The jaw cracked as the renegade fell backwards, onto the metal deck of the space port. He then followed up with a stab directly into the belly of the heretic. He kept on fighting despite the pain in his chest, from an autogun round hitting his flak armour. With that he looked around for others. Bolin and Zhixen were firing their autocannon into a group of mutants. Liam was using his grenade launcher as a club. Jackson was head butting a mutant with the full force of his helmet. The priest was waving his flamer around while shouting hymns. The group from the 28th were doing the same thing on the other side of the port. The heretics were backing off as the pile of dead and wounded grew.

"RETREAT MY BROTHERS! RETR—!" The plea of a renegade ended with a mace to the back of the head. The enforcer followed it up by reducing the head of the cultists to a red pulp on the plasteel.

"KEEP ON FIGHTING YOU COWARDS! DIE FOR THE TRUE GODS!" He was wearing a skull mask and carrying a spiked mace in one hand and laspistol in the other. He did not notice sergeant running up behind him then running him through with his chainsword.

"G'day fucker!" The enforcer shook as the teeth of the blade tore through his flesh. He then looked down to see a blade protruding through his gut.

"Chaos forever!" The enforcer cried, the sergeant let the enforcer bleed on the floor, with his yellowish guts in his hands. The sergeant ignored the screaming and moved onto the next heretic. Eventually the renegades retreated into the command centre of the spaceport. It was a barricaded building at the centre of the port, with the town 400 metres below. Ross began rattling a door nob. Then attempted to shoulder charge it down. His face was red with anger.

"YOU WILL HAVE TO TRY HARDER THAN THAT CORPSE WORSHIPER!" Ross ignored the heretic like anyone should, and continued even harder. Eventually Liam grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away.

"Mate calm the fuck down." Ross then stopped, and began rubbing his bruised shoulder. He kicked the door.

"They're going to fucking pay for what they did to Lance." Ross replied, the lieutenant pushed him aside to inspect the door himself. He then looked around the building itself.

"Do you think the autocannon can do it sir?" Bolin said. The two had already assembled the gun and had it pointing directly for the door.

"Too risky to damage the interior, I don't want Victrus on our clackers about it. We need another way in." Smokes were lit, some of the men sat down and sucked on mints or hard sweets. The medic was in the background with the wounded, Lance amongst them.

"Sir, what if some of us shimmy around the back and go in through a window?" Liam asked. The lieutenant took a gander at the side of the control centre. He then turned back to the platoon.

"Good idea, sergeant get your men around the back of the port, from this side. I will lead the attack from the other. Heavy weapons teams stay here." The sergeant then went to the ledge and began to take off his backpack.

"Ditch the backpacks and webbing, Liam take my laspistol." Liam nodded as he took the pistol, and left his grenade launcher on the floor. Ross led the way across the metal wall, with only a slip away from death. With not much in the way of a railing to block them if they fell. Liam was behind Ross with sergeant behind him.

"This reminds me of the time at Gali. We were apart of a scouting party and we had to go along cliffs." The sergeant went off on another story, and then eventually Ross spoke out.

"Sir if that story doesn't end well you might as well shut the fuck up right now." They were shouting due to the wind, and the cold was getting to them.

"I will shut the fuck up then." After scooting across the cold plasteel, they stopped when Ross reached a window. He peered in to see two ork boys, four renegades and two mutants. All crowded around a single heretic at the control panel. Ross turned back to the others.

"I see a couple renos, two muties and some greenskins." They waited for orders from the sergeant. He pointed at the grenade on Ross's belt. The regiment had made slang words for the enemy in true Aralian fashion.

"Take a grenade off your belt, hurl it in. But don't pull the pin. As soon as they hit the deck we jump 'em." Ross took the grenade off his belt, and then swung around the side of the building. He then ditched it in with full force.

"SPLODY FING, RUN FOR IT!" Ross heard the enemy take the bait and went to climb in with bayonet in hand. He was met with a scared ork pushing past him, who then leapt off the side of the building. Ross fell backwards, with his boots leaving the metal, he was then grabbed, with Liam's hand around his shirt. Meanwhile the ork was falling towards the town.

"SECOND TIME GETTING CLOSE THERE MATE?" I think that was a trade mark in the AIF, being able to make a joke about being attacked by orks. All the while on the edge of a 400 metre drop. Ross then began using some of the loose metal on the station to climb back up. As he was doing this his slouch hat fell off his head. The squad then stormed the place and killed everyone.

 **Back to the present**

"That ork that fell off the port saved my life by the way." I was beginning to feel very faint.

"How?" Ross said, I immediately began going through my smokes, trying to find one that wasn't damp, or crushed.

"Fell on an ork warboss so hard it killed it…here is your hat back." I passed the slouch hat to Ross, I needed to vomit again, so I turned back to do it. Not looking I let it out, this one was particularly violent. Then I realised I vomited on some shoes, Shiny black boots. I then looked up the body and saw a man starring down at me. A man with a shiny leather trench coat and massive hat and sash. With a very angry look on his face.

"Oh hey commissar, sorry for your boots."

 **AN**

 **I am still very confident about this story, I already have chapter 15 complete and working on chapter 16. Reviews are welcome.**

 **See you next time.**


	15. Fortifying

**I am sorry for the irregular updates, I might actually keep them irregular and stop lying. Apart from that keep reading.**

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Fortifying

I was told that I had a venereal disease and a stomach bug, most likely from the heavily polluted water. But instead of being brought back to the capital, Alfada was to be turned into the forward base. Despite my illness's, Victrus set me to work fortifying the spaceport. Punishment for vomiting on his boots. Every time I stopped he would kick me. Lance was in the town's medical ward, probably doing bad pick up lines with the nurses. We were away from the actual buildings, but could be seen shimmering far in distance. The entire AIF was digging trenches, loading the sand into sandbags, placing wood boards and barbed wire. This was all done with the sand rubbing against our skin and the sun burning our backs. Rocks needed to be dislodged from the sand, then hurled out into the open. When we were done, there was a trench big enough to crouch in and shoot from. But then colonel Rouch showed up, he took a look around. He then said to the entire regiment.

"Make it better." We went back to work, shovelling out more sand, making the trenches deep enough to stand in. Rocks were piled into makeshift walls, massive bundles of barbed wire were laid out. Positioned to funnel the enemy into the heavy weapons. After cutting our hands on the barbs, and then having sand rubbed into the wounds, the colonial showed up again.

"Make it better." We reluctantly got back to work, we carefully placed land mines in front of the barbed wire. Sergeant entertained us with another story.

"Mates, there was a moment in another campaign, when we were under siege…We had barely anything to fight with, so we gave all the recruits tins of metal…We said they were land mines, and had them go place them…Seeing them act so scared even when they were holding empty metal was fuckin hilarious. The enemy thought they were planting real mines, so they didn't attack…we won that siege because of method acting." Every time he took a break he had to catch his breath, he was much older than us.

"Don't tire yourself sergeant, we don't want you to bust your hip." Sergeant laughed then coughed, we all laughed. He was struggling behind us in terms of endurance.

"I may be way older than you…but I can still kick all your asses." Sergeant was also the only one doing all the work with a shirt on. All the rest of us went back to bare backs, with only our webbing and flak amour.

We had to dig a little hole in the ground, then place the mine and move a little bit of sand on top. With our bayonets we had to poke our way out of the minefield. It was one of the tensest moments we had ever experienced. We also were given things called 'mantraps'. A spring lock vice that would snap shut upon pressure being applied to it. They were placed in the fire lanes of the barbed wire. It was for two jobs, stopping infiltrators and so the barbed wire wasn't damaged if it was set off. Some cogboys were setting up bunkers along some parts of the trench. This place was truly a fortress. However the last thing we had to do was make some living space.

"Just like building a sand castle." Bolin said, we were told to make underground tunnels for both living in and shelter from artillery.

"A rockcrete reinforced, barbed wire surrounded, dug in, heavily defended fortress. Because they are going to need a lot of stuff to kick over this sand castle." Zhixen responded. Suddenly we heard whistling, we looked around and then up.

"GET DOWN!" Sergeant shouted, we dived into the trench as an earthsaker shell exploded nearby. We all then squeezed into a very cramped and incomplete tunnel. It also filled with sand, with the sand getting under our webbing and in our pants.

"Who the fuck was supposed to be doing the tunnel?" I said, it was also very dark and I think my head was in someone else's armpit.

"I didn't think we would need it just yet." Liam said, I think I was also lying on top of someone, and probably had a bayonet jammed right between my legs.

"Why is it so small?" Meanwhile explosions were thumping above us, making the sand collapse in. Dangerous amounts of sand. After some more shelling, I looked around, one of us didn't make it to the tunnel.

"Jackson's still out their sergeant." I began to crawl to the tunnel exit, but the sergeant grabbed me by my webbing.

"You go out there you will be pasted all over the desert like jam." He pulled me back in. After a few quiet minutes the artillery barrage stopped.

"I leave for a few minutes to take a dump, and I miss everything." We cheered, it was the voice of Jackson. He got the hole out of the tunnel big enough, then we crawled out. We were now covered in sand and bruises.

"They fucked it all up?" Liam said, I looked around to see the damage of the enemy earthsaker cannons. Barbed wire was strewn, craters were formed, our trenches were filled in undoing all the work we had done.

"Well, you know what all the school teachers said. Don't mind and try again." Bolin said, we crawled back out of the trench and went to work again. Ross was especially shaken up, but after a smoke he was back to normal. It went back to a caving exercise in scouts, we were in tight tunnels and while moving we lost Ross. This may have reminded him of that event.

We spent weeks in Alfada. Eventually I realised that we had been in the guard for about one and a half years now. In all that time I had only got a couple letters, and most of that time was just waiting for orders, or training. Home was far away, and a letter would also take 40 days to receive and send. However I received another letter, this one being from Darryl.

'Dear Bruce

Hope you are going well and haven't gotten sick or been wounded. News say that the campaign is going fine and dandy, but mum and dad are taking everything with a grain of salt. My studies are going well, and I have been doing some effort for the war. Mum's been stressed over the fact dad's working in a factory that only needs one spark to go off. Dad's stressed that mum will forget she isn't as young as she used to be in PDF training. Mum's probably told you that food has been cut down, we are really missing her home made meat pies.

From Darryl'

I picked up a pen and began writing one back, I was still sick but I was still working. Sergeant said that some hardcore regiments would flog people for vomiting. Apparently it wastes rations, if this regiment did that then I probably would have been beaten to death. The letter read something like this.

'Dear Darryl

The campaign is going well, we have just been playing in the sand and placing land mines. I am quite sick. Being sick anywhere I go. Lance has been shot, but they say he will be back in a couple of weeks. Adriano should be coming back around this time. We are now fighting heretics, which is a change from shooting at charging orks. I hope you are all well by the time you get this letter.

From Bruce'

We kept on fortifying, building up the defences. Bastions were set up using plasteel fortifications. Landing pads were placed for some of the big ships to land, and we even managed to set up some dunnies. Each squads vox-caster was tuned to be a radio for music and news. Alfada was given its own newspaper service. The music played included home classics, off world music and weird Shamal tunes. While brewing some billy tea, a man came in through the trenches.

"Aye mates, miss me?" A very familiar sounding man walked in and sat down with us, an olive skinned man.

"Oh look, the wog came back, and he's slightly more hairy." On his upper lip was the beginnings of a moustache. Just wiskers at this stage but I think in a couple weeks it would be a full stache.

"You should have seen the one my dad had." Adriano only had a mum, his dad apparently died trying to defend their home from an ork invasion. His mum was one of many that went off world to the growing cities of Arala. From the one picture of his dad I had seen, he had a big black moustache.

"Is this a family thing? Or are you just trying to pick up shielas with it?" Liam said, Adriano sat down and took out his cup.

"Eh the nurses liked it, oh they also gave me this." He then showed off a small stripe on his lower sleeve. During basic training they told us they are called wound stripes, only given to a man wounded in battle.

"Wait 'till you get five. And every single one of them I can recount." Sergeant lifted up his sleeve to reveal five stripes across it. He was still a bit further away than the rest of us.

"You missed Lance taking a couple hits. Now it's his turn to knock up the nurses." We then continued to talk and drink billy tea for the rest of the afternoon. I couldn't help noice that sergeant sat quietly, staring off into nothing. His eyes were limp and unfocused, easily showing his crows-feet. I eventually left the mates and sat down next to him.

"Sarge, sarge you ok mate?" He took a bit to respond. He then looked at me. He stubbed out his ciggie on a nearby rock.

"Yeah yeah Bruce, I'm fine…Bruce, have you noticed that Victrus never refers to you by name?" That was true, he only called be 'guardsmen' or 'trooper'.

"Yes sergeant?" We continued to sit there. He then continued the blank stare and eventually shook himself out of it.

"He doesn't do it because he can't remember, or because he can't bother. It's because he doesn't want to know who dies around him. Or when he has to disciple or even execute people…He doesn't want to know who it is he has to kill. I have got used to not giving my name to privates like you. But that changes know." He stood up and walked over to the rest of the squad, I got up and followed him.

"Want some tea sergeant?" Jackson was still the one to make the billy tea, after Liam had tried and nearly hurled the billy over the top. He said this while still stirring the dried leaves.

"Mates, my name is Wesly, Sergeant Wesly…I think you have earned to the honour of learning my name." I really expected a more manly name, but at least it won't get too confusing when there are multiple sergeants around.

Later that day we got information to listen into the vox caster, as the conductor of the siege would be giving a speech. His name was General Levi Morgan, commander of the Alfada Garrison. The sun was going down, and it was the comfortable cool weather between the scorching heat of day and the coldness of night. We were talking to each other, then suddenly stopped when the radio cracked to life.

"Imperial guardsmen, whether you are in the trenches, the fortress's or the medical wards. You are now the defenders of one of the most strategically important structures on this planet. The forces of the arch enemy have grown in the past few weeks, aiding the greenskin menace. However to fight, they must march through the desert, exposed to our artillery and navy. To take this port would give them a place to dock their ships and give them a foothold near the capital. The siege should last for only 8 weeks. Be ready for the road ahead, the siege of Alfada has now begun."

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 **Thank you mates for reading this far, I would love reviews on how the story is going so far. See you next chapter.**


	16. The siege opening

**I hope I have ironed out most the mistakes. Read on**

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The siege opening

We set up blankets for the night. We slept in the trench, taking turns being on watch. We had to sleep on the rocky sand, in the cold desert nights. We were thinking of going into the tunnels, but they were still unstable. I remember sleeping when Jackson shook me awake, I guessed it was my turn.

"You up mate?" I got up, trying to brush as much of the sand out of my hair as possible.

"Yeah mate, you just get some sleep." I picked up my lasgun and went to the billy. The tea was now luke warm. I tried to pour it with the least amount of spilling as possible into a ceramic mug.

"Hey Bruce, you don't mind if I just nip out for a bit?" Jackson pointed down the trench, I gulped down some of the tea, and rested against the wall.

"For a piss?" He seemed quite unsure, as if he was doing something shady. Jackson's doesn't usually say much, and doesn't really ask for anything.

"Nothing bad mate, I will be back before day break. Just don't worry about it, all right?" I nodded, he then began to creep down the trench, past the sleeping guardsmen. The rest of the night was quiet, glancing over the top occasionally, seeing the passing tumbleweeds and wind. I then had to wake Ross for his shift. Jackson still hadn't come back.

 **The following day**

Due to the heat and light of the sun, some of us still slept with our hats covering our faces. Jackson still hadn't shown up, and the sergeant was now interrogating me.

"Do you have any clue where he went? The lieutenant is going to be all over my ass when he finds out." As he shouted at me Victrus approached our squad. He was pushing a man in front of him. A man that looked quite familiar, being the bogan that left last night for a piss. The man was then shoved to the floor, and the commissar threw Jackson's gear on top of him. Jackson was wearing only his uniform pants and socks. The commissar dropped the rest of Jackson's uniform on top of him.

"Sergeant, does this man belong to your unit?" Victrus said, Jackson looked like he had the shit beaten out of him. He was covered in bruises and marks across his body. His pants were badly pulled up with the belt swinging loose.

"I'm sorry to say he is commissar. What has he done this time?" Jackson began to try to get up. He had the most cheeky grin on his face. Victrus then shoved him back down, so he was now kneeling.

"I caught this man performing sexual acts with a woman from another guardsmen platoon." I take it that is why he took so long, Jackson then began to try speak out, coughing with his own voice.

"I didn't do that, *cough* my dick wasn't ou-*thwack*" He was cut off with a hit to the back of the head, Victrus then continued talking. Wiping the smile from Jackson's face.

"The last thing we need in this campaign is pregnant guards-women. I have already punished him with a flogging and reduction of pay. However if the women is found pregnant the punishment will be much more severe…Carry on guardsmen." Victrus then walked off, sergeant looked disappointed, meanwhile Jackson looked to the commissar.

"Don't worry Commissar, you'll also find love someday…That isn't in a brothel." Victrus ignored him and then disappeared down the trenches. Sergeant moved down to Jackson's level, going face to face.

"Was it worth it private Heart?" Jackson smiled, again with the cheeky grin, sergeant was frowning with the same degree of Victrus.

"Nah sergeant…I didn't even get to root her." After the morning of drama, I also got berated by the sergeant for not informing him of Jackson's whereabouts.

A week later, a battle in the desert around Alfada occurred. They didn't attack us but we did manage to watch tanks fighting in the distance. I swear I saw big mechanical crabs. It may have just been a mirage but it looked real enough. According to the Alfada news service we were now surrounded on all sides. Food was mostly bully beef and hard biscuits. The other tucker was now scarce. Water was also getting very low, and no one was to go near the stream. Our water bottle was filled up each morning and that was if for the day. With only one bottle of water we had to drink, and once a couple days moist a cloth and scrub our groin and under our armpits. Due to the scarcity, washing was not done very often. We began to pong, and that brought with it flies.

"Should have trained in a flamer Liam." Adriano said, the flies were thick and crowding around our armpits, eyes, mouths and food.

"I think it will take more then that mate." Strangely the flies didn't touch the hard biscuits. The biscuits also got the name molar grinders. Due to how tough they were, they usually got dipped in billy tea or water to soften them.

The flies would also crowd around open wounds, and any food opened had to be fanned or a fly would be eaten with it. It was off putting when I was eating soft meat then felt the crunching body of a fly. The days got hotter and hotter, with us sitting in our holes all day and night. However we would occasionally get a day off, when we could train and do what we wanted. One thing I did was track down the ratlings, I needed something.

Alfada was busy, with trucks and weird desert animals moving cargo. Tanks rumbled through the wide streets and some parts of the town had to be rebuilt from the ground up. Some of the tanks were found inside the town, now they belong to us. Starships docked overhead, giving us the bare essentials for the AIF. I am guessing the ratlings were hiding somewhere. I had already checked their sniping post. I am going to guess they were in one of the alleyways, but this town was big. The buildings weren't tall, but were sprawling and wide. I started asking around. Eventually I got pointed in the right direction. I then came to a small building. The door was still intact. I could smell food and smokes. I entered a room. The ratlings were not phased by me entering. In the middle of the room was a large cooking pot, like the one back at the fortress. The ratlings were smoking their pipes. Ruru saw me.

"Hey bro, how's it going?" They had wooden furniture salvaged from the ruins, I sat down in one and the chair creaked.

"Well do you think one of your mates is the type that can get grog." I asked, Ruru got of his chair and reached into his bag, then took out a few bottles.

"Got plenty bro, Ngaio probably has more." Ruru then pointed at the ratling that was always wearing the coat that was way too big for him. I had a look at the beers, spirits and wines they offered, but I wanted something in particular.

"I need Swan Lager mate. Specific to Arala, surely some of the officers must have some?" I said, Ngaio searched around his coat and bag, and then turned to me.

"Don't have any of that, bro, I'll see what I can do. Be back later this arvo with some thrones." I got out of my chair and went to the door, stepping through the rubble and sand.

"Thanks mates, see you lot." As I stepped out I'm pretty sure I heard one of the kiwi's shout 'hurry up with the pot already, I'm starving.' We were now stationed in one of the fortresses flown from orbit; it wasn't much of a change. Sergeant was showing off some of the medals he had gained over the years.

"This one's a participation award. This one's a consultation prize. This one you get when you forget you can die. This one is for holding off an ork invasion and this ones for standing still." His medals included campaign medals, the medallion crimson (for fighting with massive injuries), the honifica imperials (for bravery), the frontsman's honours (for holding a fortification for over 24 hours) and trenchman's long service medal (for being in a trench deployment for over two months. We had been taught about most of the medals in basic training.

"Sarge, my mum has a marksmanship medal. But unlike the others it has a small silver skull etched into it. What is that for?" Liam said, I know that Liam's dad wasn't fit for the guard with a crippling injury received at work. His mum apparently met my mum when they were both snipers. His mum never returned home from service.

"Means that she is twice the guardsmen I will ever be." We kept on talking about various things, Liam recounted some of the stuff his mum did. Sergeant said that he couldn't say what the silver skull on the medal was for. I then had to leave to find Ruru and his lot again.

"Only one bottle?" I was back at the ruined building, pot was still cooking and the ratlings were still smoking.

"You Aralians are very protective of your beer you know. I had to sneak into the sergeants mess to get that." Despite the rank, sergeants were said to have the best mess, partly because the quartermasters dined there.

"Fine, how much do I owe you?" I reached into my webbing for some thrones and began to count them out in my hand.

"Ah…I will give it for 12." I thought he was asking too much. I reluctantly handed it over and he passed the big brown bottle of Swan Lager.

"Good doing business with you kiwi." I carefully placed the bottle into one of my pouches and then left.

"I nearly got caught getting that, you better be thankful, Aralian." It was getting late, I had to hurry as I got to the medical ward, and used to be a church. Now it was full of the wounded from taking the port. I waltzed in quite easily, nurses and medics ignored me too focused on their jobs. I soon found a bed, with a man that had a bandage around his abdomen and shoulder. He looked at me and smiled, and I smiled back.

"Someone kissed burns better?" I knelt down next to him, he started a dry laugh, which then went into a cough.

"They got me jacked up on painkillers, and my arm can't move very well. So yes they kissed it better and gave me a band aid. How's the group?" He then took a sip of water, I slowly went for the bottle of grog. He looked like he was going to fall asleep any moment now, I then pulled it out of my backpack.

"Adriano's back, he's got some whiskers on his face. Thought you might want to celebrate your first time being shot." I handed him the bottle and his face lit up, he then began laughing.

"By the Emperors ball-sack where'd you get this? Haven't had a good bit of grog since forever." He placed it under his bed, and then placed his shirt over it.

"The kiwi's aren't as useless as they seem. They know how to get things for a price." We talked for a while. Lance said that his car project back home is now on hold due to lack of materials. It wouldn't take long for his eldest brother to join the guard. I told him about the moustache situation and that we were working our asses off for the defense. He discussed the fact the nurses were mostly ugly. Then I had to leave before the sergeant came after me. I arrived back and we settled down for the night. One thing I did notice was the fact the night sky was a lot more…purple than before.

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 **Sorry but I usually edit these late, I hope it doesn't take away from the reading experience. See you next chapter.**


	17. Siren's call

**I had some fun writing this chapter, sorry for the long wait.**

Sirens call

"We have had rumours from guardsmen about giant metal crabs and spiders. We also have cases of men reporting naked women dancing in the desert. I have have taken it upon myself to sort the true facts from the delusional rumours." The regiment had been summoned to the courtyard of one of the many fortress's near the defence line. We sat around as Victrus acted like a teacher with a board next to him. If he was a teacher in an actual class room I would have thrown at least five ink wads at him. Lance was the best at throwing wads school. Eventually he was caught and had to have a pencil for the rest of his school days. The case of the 'naked women' was new to me but it caught my interest.

"The allegation that big metal crabs exist is in fact true, however not what you expect." Victrus lifted the first page of the board to reveal a pict of a giant metal crab like thing. It looked like a box on four claw like legs. It had guns on either side of the box and a big cannon pointing out the centre of it. It also had a small horned helmet at the very top, as if it was an actual creature.

"These big lumbering tanks are nothing compared to the finesse of the Imperial Leman Russ. But are still to be taken as a moderate threat on the battlefield. In response to the growing number of enemy armoured vehicles, guardsmen have been issued with these." Victrus walked over to a big object hidden under some cloth. He pulled the cloth off to reveal a lascannon. It had wheels and a small shield, along with a large battery attached to the back.

"This marvel of the mechanicum is a larger upgrade from your lasgun. It can and will go through the thickest of armour and destroy the machines of the enemy. Heavy weapons and command squads will be issued these. Many of these have been liberated from the enemy. Another weapon that will be issued is this." The commissar walked over to a metal box and undid the lid. He then held it up for everyone to see.

"The meltagun will be issued to some squads, mostly command and veteran squads. This weapon will turn anything it hits into molten slag within seconds. Just remember that it only has a short range. Similar to the lascannon, they may differ in pattern due to many being from the enemy. Now for some enemy tactics." He went back to the board and flipped the page to a sky view of a trench line. He then took out a marker.

"While I have discussed the heretics themselves, I shall discuss the tactics of the rusted cross warband." He then began to draw some arrows pointing at the trench line. He then drew a pointing stick from a pocket in his coat.

"The enemy will firstly announce their arrival with an artillery barrage. They might even do strafing runs, but this is a rare occurrence. Your trenches shall provide sufficient cover from these threats. As soon as the barrage stops, the enemy are coming. They will spearhead the assault with tanks and those crabs, trying to break the defences. While your lasgun can damage them, it is best left for artillery and lascannons. Behind the armour, infantry will advance whether it be in APC's, civilian vehicles or on foot. Your lasgun will be useful at that moment." He then flipped the paper over to a picture of some orks charging.

"Orks will also join in these attacks, but most of you already know how to dispatch them." He then turned the page, someone had put a pin up of a women in very little clothing. We all laughed as Victrus scrambled to flip to the next page. Can't the man just take a joke? I don't think I ever saw him smiling.

"I will find the person who did that and there will be consequences." He then switched to a page with a big picture of the desert.

"That reminds me. I need to address this one last time. THERE ARE NO NAKED WOMEN IN THE DESERT! You are all seeing mirages because you are most likely sexually deprived, and your mind is playing tricks on you. Heat and lack of water do that to you, so stay hydrated and out of the sun. This ALSO means don't go and quell these sexual urges on the guardswomen, I had to demonstrate this the other day." We sniggered as we looked at Jackson, Victrus closed the board.

"If you have any questions come see me. If you have nothing to worry about you are dismissed." We all then wandered out of the fortress and back to our position in the trenches. I noticed that Bolin went to talk to the commissar. We all went back to sitting in our holes.

"Hey mates, when I went to find my miss's, it was a bit dark…It might not have even been her." We all laughed, we tried to stay as much out of the sun as we could. But we had no cloth or much of a dugout to hide in when the sun was directly over our heads.

"What if it wasn't a woman?" Zhixen said, it made us laugh even more, Jackson also smiled and pushed him lightly.

"Or it was Victrus." Adriano said as he walked in on the group, we collapsed laughing.

"If it was, I would have felt something else than." Jackson said, Bolin sat down with his brother next to the Autocannon. We didn't really question why he went to speak to the commissar, so we kept on sitting around.

Days past since the talk, I was mumbling a prayer to my lasgun's machine spirit while pulling a brush through the barrel. Sergeant was sleeping, with his slouch hat over his eyes. Liam was writing a letter home. Ross was keeping watch with his rifle pointing towards the enemy. Jackson was quietly praying, holding an Aquila in his hand while Adriano read his uplifting primer. Bolin was also writing a letter home while his brother did some carvings into the trench wall. It was another boring day, with nothing to talk about and a hot sun beating down on us. It was mid day, and the baking heat continued on. The silence was broken by Ross's voice.

"Hey mates, I think I see something." I was first to his side, he placed his lasgun over his shoulder as we both watched a figure. It was too far away to see properly but it was slowly moving closer. As it got closer it revealed more. It had a slender and gracious female body, tenderly and gracefully striding across the sand. Twirling and prancing with no clothes to hide its smooth and curvy body…It was beautiful.

"What is it?" I asked, Ross was completely fixed on the creature, Jackson was now up and reaching for his lasgun.

"You heard the hat. What ever it is, it's getting shot." Jackson raised the lasgun to his shoulder, took aim and switched to overcharge. Suddenly Ross broke from his trance.

"NO!" Ross pushed the lasgun away as the trigger was pulled. The lasgun cracked with the beam flying off into the horizon. Ross continued forcing Jackson to the ground with his hands around Jackson's neck. Ross was much more powerfully built than Jackson, and now the big man was on top of him. I could only watch as two good friends fought as if they were sworn enemies, I was just stunned.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ROSS?" Liam shouted as he ran behind Ross trying to pull him off, I went to help him. The entire platoon squeezing into the small trenches was looking our way and the sergeant had woken up. It was if Ross had inhuman strength as he wouldn't stop, Jackson was struggling for air. It ended when Bolin hit Ross with a blow to his head. We could then finally pull him off. Ross didn't resist and had a terrified face. Blood was running down his head. Jackson backed off rubbing his neck, looking at Ross.

"Private Brown, why do I wake up to you STRANGLING PRIVATE HEART?" Sergeant barked as he was looking at Ross as we held him still. Everyone was looking in our direction. The commissar would probably show up any minute now.

"I…I don't know sir…The thing over there…it was just…I'm so sorry mate." We all looked above the line and saw nothing, the creature had vanished. Ross was dazed from the kick, and looked as if he was blind. Jackson now stood up, the hand prints on his neck still evident. While Jackson looked disturbed, Ross looked terrified.

"Sergeant Wesly, what's going on?" The lieutenant asked. Sergeant filled him in. Ross was shaking looking down at his hands. He didn't do any of that on purpose and he would never attack us, but I think I know the reason to why he did.

"I'm sorry mate, I…just don't know why I did that." Mumbled Ross.

The rest of the day passed in a very awkward and forced silence, it was something that no one wanted to talk about. Ross's head needed a few stitches, Jackson only had bruising on his neck. If I see that thing over the trench again I will fill it with lasrounds. no matter if it has smooth skin, nice legs and big round… No I must remain pure in thought, the holy emperor protects. Jackson did not wish to press any charges against Ross. No one wanted to talk about it, and we have kept a look out for that creature ever since. It now has a bounty of a packet of ciggies on its head.

Artillery would rain down occasionally, and we could tell if it was flying over us or to us. I still had to scratch my crotch occasionally, the various medical staff said it would go away over time. They said that months ago, and it still occasionally flairs up. Worst part is I don't even remember who I got it from, she could have been ugly. I was lucky. Apparently some were even more diseased than I was. Some of the very old veterans had their dick's completely missing during the first AIF.

One new thing that featured this week was reinforcements. Fresh faced recruits from Arala came off the troop ships. All of them ready to fight for the emperor. This officially meant we weren't the least experienced in the AIF anymore. I guess they had been building them up to have regiments arrive, and that meant the 11th was now up to full strength. One thing that came with them was Liam's saxophone. He had to do some bargaining to get it back. Sergeant received a present. He was enjoying it a bit too much.

"Men, this is known as a boltgun. This beauty fires 24 rounds of self-propelled, explosive FUCK YOU to the enemy. Firing this thing is nearly as good as watching what it does to the enemy. I have only used this three times in my life, and it is time to use it again. You don't live until you watch an ork standing in shock with a gaping hole in his chest." The brothers were moved back to the heavy weapons team, while we got some more men to fill up the platoon. We spent our day talking about various things in our trenches.

"I overheard some of the praetorians, do you know they call ciggies lho-sticks." Liam said, we were again sitting in our trenches. Jackson still wasn't talking to Ross. Victrus would walk up and down the line, somehow even doing it at night. While we talked about how the praetorians talked, Adriano darted into the conversation.

"You lot hear that?" We all looked at him, we didn't know what he was talking about. We all quietened down.

"What?" I then heard something, it was very quiet but high pitched, it sounded like a siren of some kind. Slowly the sound became deafening, louder than the explosions from earth-shaker shells.

"That" It was growing and coming from above, we looked up to see planes in the air. Moving in unison belching out black clouds of smoke and exhaust fumes. They were then diving at a vertical angel on the fortress.

"Ork bommers that's what they are." The sirens were getting louder, we watched as the anti-aircraft auto cannons sprayed into the sky. Some of the anti-aircraft guns were stolen off the enemy, some even being orks guns. Aircraft were ripped apart and fell into the sand in a fiery mess of heated shrapnel. The payloads were aimed at the centre of the fort, but they were orks flying the aircraft. We then heard a familiar whistling.

"GET DOWN!" We hit the ground as a shell hit the sand nearby. Dust flew into the air, landing back down on our backs and into our hair. As shells landed I tried to find a dugout, but through the flying sand that burned by eyes I failed. When the bombardment stopped, I stood up caked in sand and grit, with it stuck to my lips and any exposed skin. Rubbing in my tunic and pants. The trenches were made small to be harder to hit by artillery. We were only in danger from a direct hit into the holes. I tipped off my hat in favour of a helmet. It was like putting a bowl of sand on my head. It felt like forever, but eventually the shells stopped. I felt like I was crawling out of my own grave as I was practically buried. The backs of my calves where on fire. I then looked up to see Adriano, looking out into the desert. He began backing away from the wall, picking up his lasgun without saying a word. I got up and could hear shouting as officers and NCO's barked orders to us. But one stood out amongst them all.

"DEFENSIVE POSITIONS!"

 **AN**

 **Well time for another battle, I appreciate reviews and thanks for the feedback so far. Thank you**


	18. Fending off the storm

**Sorry for the updates taking so long, I was hit with a bout of writers block. Hope it was worth the wait.**

Fending off the storm

I felt like I was looking at an approaching sandstorm, only the tanks made it an assault. I grabbed my lasgun and crouched by the wall with the others. The trembling in my hands began. The only one talking was the replacement vox operator shouting coordinates to our basalisks. Enemy artillery was beginning to become less frequent. There was only the occasional shell. We waited as we could hear the rumbling of tanks. The bright beams of lascannons flew overhead. They were now 300 metres away. They used the artillery as cover for their advance.

"OPEN FIRE!" The lieutenant yelled, we stood up and pointed our lasguns over the trench. The tanks fired back, strafing the lines with bolter rounds, kicking up sand. The battle cannons also fired, having shrapnel and sand flying above us. We could see the infantry moving behind them, firing around the sides of the hulls of the tanks. The enemy had leman russ's, except covered in stars and spikes. When the tanks were disabled or destroyed, the enemy charged our lines. We responded with a continuous stream of lasfire. I saw what sergeant for bolter damage meant as the head of a renegade disappear into a fountain of blood and bone. They kept on coming with wave after wave of bodies. They varied in movement and weapons. Some looked like men that used to be guardsmen, with the imperial iconography on their uniform and gear scratched and covered up with that weird spiky star. But some looked as if they were just normal civilians who either charged us with ferocity, or cowardly hid behind the plasteel of the tanks. We were only to focus on infantry.

I was knocked back as an autogun bullet hit me directly in my chestplate, but even with the pain, I got back up. I was already blind from the sand in my eyes, some chest pain won't add that much. I stumbled back and continued firing. My charge pack ran out. When I popped up again with a full pack any stragglers from the first assault were either retreating or hiding behind tank traps, wrecks or craters. Adriano went around hurling grenades into each of the holes. Jackson set up the billy, and emptied the sand out of it.

"Well, that was an experience." I said, my trembling improved as I took a drag of a ciggie. We left our charge packs to recharge in the sunlight.

"They will be back in an hour I bet you." Zhixen said. We jumped as a lower forearm landed into the middle of the squad.

"Need a hand?" Bolin walked in, the arm he had thrown was covered in blood belonged to a heretic, I'm guessing he doesn't need it anymore.

"Did you hack an arm off?" Ross said disgusted, Bolin had a smile on his face as he walked to us. It was a happy smile.

"Adriano hurled a grenade into a crater. I heard a scream and a body landed near me. The arm was hanging off already." I began poking the arm away with my bayonet, eventually skewering it by the flayed flesh and hurling it over the side of the trench. It had a greyish tinge to the skin, with a some scars across it and a spiky star tattoo. What is with the heretics and that spiky star?

"Private Li, the commissars don't take very kindly to the defiling of corpses, even the enemy. Get the corpse away from the line, they stink after a while." Bolin sighed and went to the corpse, He stopped and stood for a bit looking across the desert.

"Don't know how we are going to shift all these corpses. There's a lot of them." He then began pushing the body. As he did we heard a ping and the sound of a bullet digging into flesh.

"SHIT!" Zhixen was the first to run to Bolin, we found him with blood around his face and body, he wasn't bleeding however. He brushed off Zhixens attempt to help him up.

"I'm fine, sniper trying to take my head off." The corpse he was pushing had a chunk taken off it. The blood was thick and flies were already all over it. We worked together to throw it a couple metres from the hole. The little buzzing blighters were having a feast, and watching the dust cloud in the distance, that was only the first wave.

Our basilisks gave them a pounding, but they returned fire with their artillery pieces. The cool down periods did let us sip billy tea, although it was sandy and probably had some bits of enemy in it. We also lit up ciggies and just waited. Eventually we began talking again. Adriano told us a story from his experience at the field hospital.

"Aye so when I was in with my leg wound, we would have to get wash downs with our bandages replaced. We had a nurse doing it, she was truly beautiful, and I was very exiting to being washed by her. She comes in with a bucket and sponge, she was very nervous and probably has never seen a man with no clothes on. And guess what, I'm the first one to get a wash. I tried to stay cool and handsome, with my painkillers and inability to move my leg. She then begins to scrub. At first it was fine but then she starts to get really rough." We all sniggered; it was bad as I had a full mouth of sandy tea.

"She looked at me confused and then keeps on going, like we are talking even the painkillers couldn't hold it back. I really want to shout at her how much pain I am in, but I don't want to look like a wuss. Then as I was about to yelp in pain an older nurse walked in and said. 'NO YOU STUPID GIRL, HE'S THAT COLOUR BECAUSE HE'S SUNBURNT!' She stopped after that." We were now chuckling, with incoming enemy and corpses only metres from us, we could still laugh.

"500 metres!" Officers were shouting, we all stood up ready for the next wave, looking over I saw the big metal crabs surrounded by infantry.

"Wasn't all bad, when the young nurse turned to the older one I got a very quick glance up her skirt." Adriano continued, we then stood with our lasguns towards the enemy. I needed to desperately scratch my crotch, but priorities were in front of me.

"300 metres!" We were to not begin shooting till the 100 metre mark, but lascannons and auto cannons could hit at that range. The artillery was still kept up, one of the enemy crabs got a direct hit by an earthshaker cannon. It staggered then collapsed, with strange stuff leaking out of it with a purple tinge to it.

"100 metres!" We opened fire on the hordes, They were getting closer to us than the last wave, some of them joining their dead or cowering comrades in the craters. It meant that they were only 40 metres away from us, some as close as 10 metres away. The enemy pushed the corpses of their comrades to use as makeshift sandbags. A piece of metal came flying out of one of the craters, about the size of a fist and cylindrical in shape.

"GRENADE!" It landed one metre away, I hit the hard rocky ground as it exploded. I was relieved, but then another one landed two metres away from me. Adriano dived and picked the grenade up and went to hurl it back. He was not fast enough and it went off as soon as it left his hand. I was knocked down again with the blast, I looked back through the cloud of dust and sand to see Adriano writhing around in pain.

"IGNORE HIM THE STRETCHER BEARERS WILL GET TO HIM!" Sergeant yelled, I obeyed without question or hesitation. Getting back up to defend the trench. I could almost ignore the sounds of Adriano in utter agony.

Eventually the assault ended, and I could finally take a long look at the scene fully unfolded before me. Craters were covered all over the desert with dead and dying left by their comrades as they ran. Burning wrecks littered the desert. Faint screaming from their crews trapped in their metal coffins could be heard. Enemy corpses were strewn in front of the trench, leaning on barbed wire and tank traps. The closest any got was 10 metres. A man that seemed to have multiple grenades tied to him. I then looked back to Adriano. His uniform was torn with his right hand now mangled flesh and bone. Shrapnel had ripped at his face beyond recognizable.

He wasn't screaming any more.

Basic training tried to make us be ready for death. We would watch farm animals being killed in front of us. Some of us even being made to pull the trigger. It didn't prepare us for anything. We didn't talk. We didn't joke. There was no banter when we sat down after the fighting. We could only hear the sounds of the battle moving away. Adriano, a man I had known since I was nine. No last words or farewell, just shrapnel through him and a family that will hear of his death. It wasn't sadness. The feeling was shock. Sergeant was calm. He pretty much ignored the body. Popping a ciggie into his mouth, and setting it alight with the heat of the boltguns barrel.

"What…what do…What do we do now mates?" I said, Sergeant stood up and grabbed Adriano's blanket.

"We can't do anything, boys remember this isn't like scouts. This galaxy is not for the faint of heart. It will take you, chew you up…and sometimes spit you out." He placed the blanket over Adriano, leaving his legs sticking out.

"I will try and commission him a bravery medal, but that's all we can do now." I don't even know how long we sat their for, could have been minutes or hours. But eventually stretcher bearers came and took the body away. We finally received orders. Climb out and walk around the perimeter looking for stragglers. Take any equipment that is in usable or repairable condition, it will be refurbished and issued.

We went for a walk. The platoon went forth while other guardsmen stayed behind in case of an ambush or another attack. It was late in the day. It was starting to cool down but I could still feel the heat radiating off the hard ground. We pushed through a cloud of flies that covered the enemy corpses. We found some of them still moving, pleading and praying. We followed the actions of the commissars and officers putting the heretics out of their misery. I began poking every body with my bayonet. One of the wounded began pleading to me.

"WAIT NO PLEASE! I'M NO HERETIC. I WAS FORCED! EMPEROR HAVE MER…" With the cold steel through his neck he struggled and gargled his last words and then went limp. Something shone in his hand, I pried his fingers open with my bloody bayonet to find an Imperial Aquila. Must have stolen it from another guardsmen. Nothing of his was worth taking. He only had a rusty autopistol and a blunt knife.

After dragging the corpses into large piles, flamers set them alight as we went back to the shelter of the trenches. Spare stretchers were used to bring piles of grenades, guns, close combat weapons, ammo and flak armour. Some The air had a thick smell of burning meat, mixed with oil and blood. Soon to include the scent of a ciggie, as I reached into my webbing.

The rest of the day was quiet, with smoke still in the air and the stench of death and burning fuel. I went to the medic to look at the mark on my chest. He said it will just bruise, and it will go away in a couple weeks. Letters should arrive tomorrow, hopefully good news.

 **AN**

 **It will be a while before I update again, I will try and get more out. In the meantime please leave a review and I will see you soon.**


	19. Buried in Sand

**An update out of nowhere when I decided to actually edit a chapter for once. Sorry about the wait.**

Buried in Sand

We finally got a couple days rest from the constant defence of the port, enough time for burials. We weren't the ones to do the graves, that was up to two servitors. One of them had scoops for hands while the other lowered the bodies down. The grave was then finished with a temporary marker, usually a lasgun stuck into the ground with dog tags and hat placed on it. Many graves were unnamed due to disfiguration of the body or destruction/lack of dog tags. A priest followed the servitors giving last rights to the dead. We did see Adriano one last time. We could tell from the way the shrapnel tore into his face and hands or lack of hand that was. He was placed in his grave in only his briefs, no gear was to be wasted on the dead. We only left as the servitors began pouring sand on him.

"His mother will be beside herself." I had to agree with Ross, the history of Adriano's family was tragic. Their planet was overrun with an ork invasion. Adriano's father joined the PDF and died in battle, alongside most of the family. Adriano while still just a baby was evacuated from the planet as the war went further and further downhill. He was the only child alive in the family. When we arrived at our designated tent, I sat down on the bed. Eventually I picked up a pen and paper, I needed to give closure to Mrs Rosi on the fate of her son.

'Dear Mrs Rosi

You probably would have received the news, but I want to know that your son was a good boy. He was a brave man that without hesitation saved the lives of me and his mates exchanging his own. He wouldn't want you to feel sad for him, he died for you and for the rest of us. My condolences

Bruce Duwal'

It was this time on the planet that sandstorms became very frequent, getting into the cracks of metal and skin. However commanders saw this as an opportunity. Our company was assembled in one of the fortresses where a Tallarn officer stood. With decorated robes and a massive curved knife at his belt.

"Good morning Guardsmen of Arala, my name is Colonel Aziz. Tallarn regiments are known for two things, armoured warfare and hit and run tactics. And with this grand yellow deserts of Shamal, it makes us feel like home. But I'm not here to tell you my planets history. Today you learn how to move like a grain of sand in the wind. To bring destruction to our enemy and to move away as fast as a sandstorm. To hide in the flat ground amongst the sand and rocks like true Tallarns. I am here to teach you how to fight like us." That day we spent learning how to be stealthy, putting socks on the outside of our boots, having any shiny metal removed and then to walk in a straight line to hide numbers. This was known as offensive patrolling.

The reason for this according to General Morgan we were told was to 'siege the besiegers' and to control no mans land. We were to lower morale and harass the enemy. To lay mines and give intelligence to high command. We were taught how to hide in the sand. Lying and covering ourselves in dead grass and dust, with our eyes still peaking out. The tactic was to then spring forth and charge with bayonets first. It was supposed to finish the enemy swiftly and with the least amount of noise as possible. Tallarn desert raiders did it with curved knives instead. We also learnt that we needed to move with sandstorms in order to save energy. We practiced this for several days getting better and better as the days passed.

The enemy continued to attack but never hit our line, they came in armoured assaults. Trying to spearhead points that look weak. Hopefully they give up soon and just stick with the bombardments and dive bombings. While sitting around in the trench I noticed four things I saw ranging from strange to unsettling. Jackson kept on pacing up and down quite nervously, Bolin wouldn't stop playing with his bayonet and Ross mumbled in his sleep last night. Liam was playing his saxophone, he was actually pretty good for what I was expecting. I call bullshit on the doctor as my crotch still feels like ants are burrowing into it. Sergeant was a bit upset to have to hand back his boltgun. Tonight would be the night we would do an offensive patrol against the enemy. Our whole platoon was involved in this operation. Today was also the day the postman would make his rounds. He came with a sack, looking at him he was probably a guardsmen not fit for combat. When he came through the trench Jackson scrambled over the equipment and rocks and held out his hand. The postie carefully went through the mail, much to Jackson's anticipation.

"Hurry up mate." The postie just looked at him, and laughed still going through the mail, I thought he was deaf from the way he ignored Jackson's comment.

"Name?" Jackson sighed in frustration and fidgeted on the spot.

"Private Heart, Private Jackson Heart NOW HURRY UP!" The postman held out a letter, which Jackson snatched away and started savagely ripping it open. He then ditched it at me, it was a letter addressed to me.

'Dear Bruce

Due to rationing of ink and paper, it took us a while to write to you. But all of us have been thinking about you, and we are worried about you. You remind me a lot about me when I was young. It has been pretty normal here, except for the rationing getting tighter and recruitment drives. Sometimes I see your mum going into town with her slouch hat on, patriotism and reminders of what we did during our service. Hope you are all right and may the emperor protect you.

Love, your father.'

We didn't have any paper around to send a letter back, but I will when I get the chance. Jackson went back to bugging the postie.

"I DON'T WANT THAT ONE HAVE YOU GOT ANYMORE?" The mailman ignored him and yelled out our names to which we took the letters from him. When he turned to Jackson the postie shook his head and continued down the trench to the next squad. Jackson darted over to the sergeant.

"Sergeant I need to be excused." Sergeant raised the brim his hat, he then stood up stretching himself while he did so.

"And why is that Heart?" Jackson looked around, we were all watching him, minus Bolin who was scratching something on a rock with a bayonet.

"It's my miss's, the 15th's position was attacked yesterday and she hasn't sent any letters in a while. I just want to go check up on her." Sergeant sloshed some billy tea into his tray and slurped it down while Jackson talked. Flies then swarmed his lips.

"Paper's hard to find right now, she'll be right I guarantee it." Jackson looked down the line then back at the sergeant who was pouring more tea into his mess tin.

"I'll be back as fast as I can alright. I'll just check." He then ran off down the line, past other men and over scattered equipment. Sergeant didn't seem to care that much. I stood up to go after him.

"Let him go, he'll be back either chased out or being dragged by his collar."

 **1 hour later**

"Ok who wants to go and find Jackson, we're going to start the patrol soon." Sergeant said out loud. The sun was going down giving the desert a red glow. No one put up their hands to go find him.

"Surely he would've been caught be now." Liam replied, Sergeant stood up and looked down the line of men and equipment that crowded the thin sandy trenches. That is when we saw the black coat and Victrus walked through, he then stopped and stood directly in front of the Sergeant.

"Sergeant your presence has been requested by the 15th regiment, Commissar of F company." I think we knew what had happened. And what was soon to happen to a certain bogan.

"Sir, can I come too?" Liam asked, that sparked all of us asking if we could all come. Probably because it's been a while since we had ever seen women.

"Zhixen, you're now acting sergeant…Liam, Bruce with me. I feel we might need to carry Jackson back after this." We then followed the commissar, as we meant through the mazes of trenches that made up the outer perimeter of Alfada.

"So commissar, how have your experiences been in the 11th of Arala?" Liam asked, Victrus looked back at us and continued walking. After a minute of thought he replied.

"The AIF seems to lack the discipline of the Praetorians, and other regiments I've seen. However I praise you Aralians for your combat effectiveness and improvisations, especially in the face of supplies being difficult to obtain." We had been using the enemy war gear to replace our own, some of their tanks were stolen and rebuilt. Along with reusing weapons from the assault, we even got a little pay rise in handing in stolen equipment.

We then came to a woman who stood to the attention of the commissar. They then exchanged salutes, and he was let through. But then she stopped the rest of us as we went to follow him.

"Let them through, they're with me…disappointingly" She nodded to us without saying a word, stepped aside, we continued after Victrus.

One thing I wondered was how did Jackson keep sneaking into this small stretch of trench and finding his girlfriend. He must have crawled his way through the sand, and then carefully found her amongst the women. But that was only a guess I really wanted to know what the answer really was. The women's trench was pretty much the same as ours, with equipment laying around and billies brewing. They also were similar to us in the way they dressed, wearing minimal as possible without taking away protection or performing nudity. Very distracting when some of them were trying to cover up, as their flak vests were the only piece of clothing covering their breasts. We knew we were close when we heard the shouting.

We came to an opening were we saw F company commissar turning to face us. She was the one we saw all the way back on Arala. She was around the same age as Victrus, and had a bionic eye surrounded by burns. Standing a few metres away facing the wall was Jackson. The two commissars traded salutes, as we followed.

"Afternoon Commissar Victrus, I have found and caught the offender's." I also noticed Jackson's girlfriend on the opposite side of the trench, Jackson also had his pants on this time. They were clothed as normal. Still minimal as possible. Jackson looked the same as when he left. The two conversed with the sergeant occasionally having input, meanwhile Liam and I lazed around.

"What's his punishment now do you think?" Liam asked, I just shrugged and continued to not look like I was ogling all the women in the trench. Despite the fact they were anything but beautiful. Most of them were built like us, lean and toned, with faces showing sunburn and scars. Still reminded me what a woman was, even though this lot looked very manly. Half the sun was peaking over the horizon and the red was beginning to engulf the desert. The situation escalated between the sergeant and the commissars and voices were raised.

"YOU NEED TO KEEP YOUR MEN UNDER CONTROL AND YOU NEED TO CONTROL YOURSELF!" The F company Commissar yelled at sergeant then Jackson, sergeant stood stoically while Jackson didn't move.

"All he did was to know if a loved one of his was safe, last time I checked that wasn't an action that could be court martialled." Sergeant responded, Victrus just stood off to the side and Jackson's girlfriend didn't move.

"After what he did last time he was probably going to do it again." Jackson turned and walked up to the F-company commissar, almost staring her down. He was fuming with anger, but keeping it from showing to a person who barely knew him.

"Sir, I mean ma'am, I did not try to root her the first time, nor did I try to do it this time. All I wanted to know is if my miss's was all right. I wanted to know if she was wounded like one of my mates, or dead and buried like another. I wanted to know if the one person I loved in my life was all right. You may punish me if you wish but it won't stop me from doing it again." The commissar stared back at him, with the same stern expression of most commissars. They were very close, almost kissing. Sergeant defused the situation by interrupting.

"Commissars I say we continue this when we get back, as our unit is part of an offensive patrol and we need manpower." The commissars stopped and looked at the sergeant, then the F company commissar responded.

"My duty is to carry out discipline, sergeant. This man has broken Astra Millitarium regulations on multiple occasions, the punishment would be transfer to a penal legion but those aren't around. He may be excused but his punishment will be thought of when he gets back. Don't think I've forgotten about you." The F company commissar looked at Jackson's miss's, we then left, Jackson was with us. Thankfully not having to carry him with us.

"So what happened this time mate?" I asked, Jackson laughed with pure happiness and turned to Liam as we went back through the trench of women and tea.

"Doesn't matter mate, I'm happy she's fair, that's all I need to know."

 **AN**

 **I have been working on something else, and I hope to get that up as some point. I would love reviews, thank you.**


	20. Whispers in the Wind

Whispers in the Wind

Before the patrol we were each told to roll down our sleeves, overlap our pants with our socks then to put on a bandana. The bandana's being donated from the uniforms of the enemy. Unlike the light khaki of our uniform, renegades wear a desert yellow. We were carrying a land mine each, placed on our backpacks. We then went for briefing. It was a bit of a tight squeeze in the trench, with a makeshift map drawn into the sand and rocks as landmarks. No official maps could be issued due to security reasons. The ratling's were also going to be apart of the patrol. Earlier reconnaissance and orbital pictures had indicated the enemy used vehicles such as chimera's and Armoured cars for their own patrols. Therefore our platoon got fitted with a lascannon, and a meltagun. A couple of other explosives were given to other groups, along with land mines. We then had a short prayer together lead by a priest.

"And may he protect our souls from the taint of heresy and our bodies from the fires of battle. For the Emperor!"

"For the Emperor!" We then placed our hats back on along with our new bandanas, and went over to top. We navigated the minefields, bundles barbed wire, ditches, craters and traps in no mans land. Putting trust in the man at the front driving his bayonet into the ground. Then it was off into the rough and empty desert, with the only light coming from the moon. Unlike the moon back home on Arala, this moon was shiny and looked completely baron. Arala's moon was known as Muani II and was covered in mountains of dense jungle terrain.

After crawling in the desert for some time I began to get an itching feeling, that wasn't in my crotch area. It was at the back of my head, but even if I scratched it, it remained as if it was inside my skull. I eventually gave up and continued to crawl through the dust. When we were out of where the snipers usually gaze, we could walk. The flat desert was now littered with craters, and was soon to be covered in a sandstorm.

"Hey there tall, strong and handsome." The feminine voice came from my left, I sharply turned with my lasgun ready, but there was nothing there.

"What're you looking at mate?" Ross was right behind me, I knew there was a voice, it wasn't like a muffled noise that sounded like talking. It was a very angelic female voice, that was smooth and alluring. With that my itch went away.

"Nothing…Don't worry." I probably looked mad to him, everyone else probably saw me, and would agree. But I felt that ignoring it was not the best option. I mumbled a praise to the emperor and kept on walking. I then ran into the back of Liam as the platoon stopped. We all looked up ahead as the lieutenant had his fist raised in the air. Another skill we were taught was sign language, commonly used by the Tallarns. Apparently words can be carried by the wind, a fist in the air meant 'halt'.

We all dropped to one knee, then just waited. The ratlings would fan pointing their rifles around while the some of the platoon command squad would look around. Eventually one of the men whispered a message down the line.

"Road ahead" I repeated Liam's words to Ross, after it reached the heavy weapons teams at the rear we moved at a fast pace until a quick hand wave from the lieutenant ordered us all to hit the sand. That is when we heard…music. It was a series of voices, accompanied by a bass drum, trumpets and other orchestral instruments.

"AND OUR BANNERS WILL, BE RAISED…ABOVE TERRA…CHAOS BE PRAISED!" The music was getting closer, then we saw the dust cloud in the distance and three metal tanks leading it.

"AND OUR ARMAMENTS RAISED…AGAINST TERRA…CHAOS BE PRAISED!" We all watched on as it came closer, two chimeras and a Leman Russ. All three had speakers attached to them playing a blasphemous tune. Still don't know what 'chaos' is but it gets thrown around amongst the enemy. This wasn't the first time the enemy used speakers, they liked to attach them to their planes when they did bombing runs. They said it was to invoke fear, but should be classified as trying to make us deaf. They did have a good tune however I do grant them that.

"AND TO SET THE IMPERI-UM ABLAZE…AGAINST TERRA…CHAOS BE PRAISED!" They drove along the road then started heading away without seeing us. After they were well and truly gone we moved again.

We reached the road, we were positioned so two thirds of our platoon was placed on each side of the road, while one-third was on the road to plant mines. I was one of the guardsmen keeping look out, lying on my front behind a small dead bush. Jackson was to my left, also behind the bush.

"I never got to really thank you for the night you let me go see my miss's." Jackson whispered, we both continued to keep watch, spying for the slightest hint of movement. But if that last heretic patrol said anything we should be able to hear them before we could see them.

"Heh, we didn't say anything when we threw ink wads around in class. Or when the cricket ball went through the school window." We both snickered at the memory of when Lance hit a 6 and it went right through the class room window. We all got the cane for that.

"So thank you Bruce…probably a bit late but thanks." We both went back to silence, While waiting the itch in my mind came back. I then saw something in the distance.

"What's an excellent man like you wasting his time in the guard for? You have much more potential with us." The same voice, I looked to see a figure standing about fifty metres away, slowly walking towards the platoon. Even if it was dark I could still see a slight purplish-blue aura around the figure, showing off an hour glass body shape.

"Now why don't you come over here and find out what you're missing out on." It walked flamboyantly, swaying its curvaceous hips while showing off all angles of its body. Skinny flowing pieces of cloth indicated that a closer look at the creature coming towards me won't leave much to the imagination. I took aim with my lasgun, it stopped as soon as I looked down the sights.

"Oh really, well come on…I'm waiting." I hesitated, seeing I was the closest to it I didn't know if I was the only one to see it. It showed off it's entire body, letting loose its perky…Jackson would've known as I adjusted myself, but I didn't know if he knew. Something stopped me from talking to Jackson despite the fact I was touching elbows with him. As I was about to squeeze the trigger I jumped at the sound of another Lasgun fired, we all turned to Ross. He fired off several rounds before sergeant pulled him by his webbing.

"What in the Emperor's name are you doing Brown?" Sergeant was face to face with Ross, as the entire platoon looked on.

"Over there, it wa…" He pointed at seemingly empty ground, nothing in sight but sand, bushes and a wrecked tank in the very distance.

"Theres nothing over there!" Sergeant cut him off, he turned back he then looked back utterly confused. I did the same, realising that the creature coming towards me had disappeared.

"Now you quiet down and quit shooting air. Before we have every heretic and his metal box coming at us with their sacrificial daggers ready. Am I clear?" He said whispering as loudly and sternly as he could, Ross began quickly nodding.

"Yes, sergeant" He dropped Ross and crawled back over to his position, I looked over at Jackson who was just looking at me in the same way Ross did, guess he didn't see what I saw. Or he was hiding it. We continued lying there as mines were placed, Ross got dirty looks, I could tell why. I really wanted to go over to place where I saw the thing. But I didn't want to look mad, or give away our position. I need to talk to Ross at some point, but not out here, not with whatever those things are stalking around. I got a tap on the shoulder.

"Move out" I passed it on, we were then back on patrol, more crouching we saw light up ahead, moving towards us. A wave of the lieutenant ordered us on our bellies, the whispers began again.

"Spread out, enemy foot patrol." We all spaced out, I got behind a piece of rusted metal, waiting for the bayonet order. As the enemy came closer, we could here their voices, there were twenty of them, with torches spread out between them. They were talking and laughing, wearing a mix and match of gear, ragtag like many of the enemy units. I could even hear exactly what they were saying.

"So wife's going pretty well, second child's coming." That sentence stood out amongst the others, it was then lost in the other conversations. I passed it off and got ready for the inevitable bayonet charge. The Lieutenant raised three fingers, we fixed our blades, two fingers, we dug in our heels to spring from the sand. One finger let us start to slowly move towards them, low to the ground. The enemy still remained totally oblivious to the threat around them.

The lieutenant dropped his hand and we charged forward, the only sound being our boots hitting the sand and the enemy shouting in confusion. Soon the night was filled with screams as bayonets and chainswords found their way into the enemy. It only took a minute before the heretics were in the dirt, painfully twitching their last words. We quickly searched the bodies, turning off their torches before moving on.

We found another road, placing the remainder of our land mines. This proceeded without incident. We reached a river and followed it, eventually stoping as an enemy position was relayed to high command. We could hear the thunder of artillery coming from atop a cliff, from which it looked like a big portion had collapsed. Rumour said it collapsed when the sergeant of an elite patrol punched the mountain so hard it collapsed. With the help of explosives and a power fist, but those were just rumours. Surely it would have to be something much bigger in order to do that. We turned back towards Alfada, the guns still thundering behind us.

As we walked I could feel the stinging of sand hitting my bare flesh start to increase. The sand was going into my eyes. We could all see the tsunami of dust coming straight towards us. We pushed down the brims of our helmets or hats to keep the sand blinding us as it dug into our flesh.

"Brace!" I faintly heard over the howling of the winds, we placed cloth over the muzzles of our lasguns and then dug ourselves into the sand as the sandstorm hit. We could barely see a few metres in front of us. Being lost was a death sentence. No one wanted to be out in the desert during the day. We started to move again. Only flamer and vehicle operators had goggles. Officers also got them at their request. But the rest of us were stumbling around with our eyes almost shut. Even the enemy had goggles, which I failed to swipe from any bodies. I came to a sudden stop as I bumped into someone, knocking them over.

"Sorry mate." I responded as I helped the man off the ground. After the line moved around a bit I didn't know who was in front of me.

"No no, it's all good." The voice was muffled, most likely due to his bandana, as I helped him up reaching my hand down for him. As I reached down I could feel the hand was quite skinny, but I didn't really care, we had all lost significant weight. But at that moment the sandstorm died down a bit and I saw the uniform. Crude armour, yellowish fatigues and a different pattern of lasgun to the rest of the platoon. As soon as I saw the spiky star on a string around the neck of the person I was helping, my blood ran cold.

But what gave me a bigger fright was on looking around, I could see the amount of people in the platoon had doubled. Everyone else seemed quite oblivious that we had just encountered an enemy patrol and I knew I held the lives of many people in the balance. What if the heretic in front of me saw my uniform was different to theirs. It was at this moment I realised that the renegade in front of me was actually a woman. Even though she was a woman, she had a lasgun, but more importantly she had vocal cords.

I had to act now.

I had to act carefully.

 **AN**

 **Back again...with a cliff hanger. Please review and I will return at some other random point in the future.**


	21. Blood, Sand and Lust

**Back to the odyssey, this chapter's a bit long and is a little different.**

Sand, Blood and Lust

I dropped my lasgun and pulled out my bayonet thrusting at heretic, bringing the blade down on her neck. She sidestepped me, leaving me to fall to the ground, she then raised her own lasgun.

"CORPSE WORSHIPPERS!" She shouted, before she could pull the trigger the sound of metal hitting metal rang out. Blood spurted from her chest before she collapsed to the dust. But I didn't stop moving as the sounds of lasgun cracks and shouting of battle enveloped me. I picked up my lasgun and took aim at a figure in the storm, then realised I couldn't tell who was who, so I began hunting down renegades. I changed my mind when I saw the silhouette of an autocannon in a crater. I headed there instead. When I arrived I only found Zhixen, Bolin was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's your brother?" I crouched back to back against him, he had taken over as the gunner, and he was holding his chest in pain. I looked to see a burn mark on the left breastplate.

"I'm fine, it's just stings a little. Bolin ran off yelling something about blood, he took the shovel." We continued to stay there without firing. We heard the distinctive sound of an officer's shrill whistle being blown repeatedly. That was a rallying signal by the lieutenant. I helped him carrying the auto cannon towards our officer. When we arrived we found a makeshift dugout. More guardsmen, Jackson, Liam and Sergeant were there, along with most of the platoon. We dropped down alongside them.

"Which ones are ours?" Jackson asked. We waved our lasguns around around. Everything looked the same behind the blanket of the storm. We're more concerned that Ross and Bolin aren't here, but we had more immediate threats to worry about.

"KHORNE WILL LEAD OUR BLADES…TOWARDS TERRA…CHAOS BE PRAISED!" The music was heard faintly in the distance. The enemy must have called for backup. We all knew we were in for a lot more.

"Lieutenant says to cover the command squad as they move to that hill over there!" Sergeant pointed to a small mound in the distance. We nodded and began firing into the wind. It was more flash than fire as we had not target. Meanwhile the lieutenant, his vox carrier, medic and lascannon team ran for it. We moved with them. More men rallied, obviously getting the gist of what was happening. Our platoon was nearly back up to our original number. We reached the hill and set up a perimeter, waiting for further orders.

"SIR IF THE STORM STOPS AND WE'RE HERE WE WILL DIE!" Sergeant shouted to the lieutenant. The music kept blaring in the background. We continued his orders to lay down fire, volleying lasrounds turning the hill into a light show.

"WE DON'T KNOW WHERE THE TANKS ARE COMING FRO…" Before he could finish we got an answer with an explosion hitting the sand nearby. Sending it flying into our faces, It was followed up by a lascannon beam, slicing a guardsmen in two, giving off a sizzling sound of fat with a smell of burnt flesh and cloth.

"Turn the lascannon around and fire in that direction." The veterans did so quickly. The burning laser lit, followed by the explosion in the silhouette of a Large Crab. However another shell exploded near us, followed by the shrieks of wounded guardsmen.

"WE MOVE OR WE DIE!" There was panic in sergeant's voice, I didn't bother looking back at them as we saw more shadows moving towards us. Couldn't tell if reinforcements arrived or the enemy patrol had regrouped.

"…HEAVY WEAPONS TEAMS AND SQUAD TWO STAY HERE AS REAR GUARD! EVERYONE ELSE MOVE!" As we were squad one, we picked ourselves off the ground and moved with the rest of the platoon. Then I realised Zhixen needed a second man to carry the autocannon, I stayed with him. Wounded were flung over shoulders or carried by arms and legs. More men were cut down in lasgun fire during the retreat. Round after round was going in the direction of the enemy, with my lasgun looking like a laser pointer next to Zhixen's gun. The autocannon started to make a light clicking sound.

"I'M OUT!" We knew how to reload the autocannon, Zhixen frantically unclipped the drum as we both fumbled to click it in, with the load **clack** of the bolt being pulled back it was another 20 rounds of hell to be unleash.

"EVERYONE MOVE!" The squad two sergeant directed over the sounds of battle, straining his grainy voice. I slung my lasgun over my shoulder. I went to hold the auto cannon by the barrel, dropping it in pain as the barrel burnt my hand. I took my bandana off and used it as a mitt for one hand at the tip of the gun. A glancing hit across my shoulder pad gave me enough adrenaline to endure the pain of the other. Even if the actual way of carrying an auto cannon is to take it off the tripod and carry it separately, we didn't have time.

We were out of there, running through the desert with lasgun rounds streaking past, not the first time at least. But there was no medic to help, and we were alone, to fall would be death on its own. Then we heard that dreaded whistling.

"DOWN!" Those shells weren't aiming for the platoon. We could hear the explosions behind making us all sprint even faster. We eventually met up with the rest of the platoon. All sitting around a wrecked leman russ. We joined them as we fell to our knees. After the adrenalin died down I could feel my mouth cracking with the amount of sand I inhaled. I went for my water bottle, and washed it out, making sure minimal sand went back in.

"Men, we did our job…we did it to the best of our ability…day break will be soon. We're heading back to Alfada." The lieutenant said this and it was immediately met with protest, I couldn't be bothered opening my mouth, that's how tired I felt.

"Ross is out there!" Jackson yelled, I thought he was just a bit confused and he would have linked up by now. I wanted to light a ciggie, but remembered I left them back in the trench, I felt around my pockets to see if I had any sweets left on me.

"MY BROTHERS STILL OUT THERE!" Zhixen shouted over the others. The medic tended to the wounded, some died of their injuries and were getting a makeshift burial. I helped them in grave digging, using our helmets as shovels. After getting the hole deep enough I moved to the first body. His entire side was covered in shrapnel wounds, must have taken bits of the cannon shell, his head was missing. I began recovering his gear then saw a glimpse of movement as I looked up. I grabbed the nearest lasgun and pointed it at the figure.

"CONTACT!" The thing didn't look like the ones I had seen before, this one was skinny and masculine. It carried a weapon of some kind in its hand, everyone turned with their guns ready, but no one pulled the trigger. We all watched as he/she/it came forward, it was then we saw the blood.

The clothing and armour were torn, exposing his torso. He was covered from head to toe in scars, bullet holes and burns. In his hand was a shovel dripping with blood, guts, bone fragments and other parts of the human body. In his other hand he held two heads, messily cut at their necks with the faces of fear painted onto them. The figures entire body from his hair to his boots were saturated in crimson. However the face stood out the most, a wicked yellow grin with eyes that spoke of pure bliss.

"Morning mates." Bolin said, as he continued to walk towards us, we all stood in fear, some of us even backing away from him. Looking at him he shouldn't even be alive, the blood on him wasn't just the enemies. One particular gash went across his stomach, showing off a sight that made several men including me gag. A bayonet wound for sure. He stopped and slowly looked down at himself, then calmly looked up and faced us.

"Eh, forgot about that. Well, Khorne helped me…anyway." He dropped the heads and shovel, as he collapsed. An ear splitting scream ran out as Zhixen dashed forward to his brother's side. We all stood silently as he cried for his brother to get up, tears streaming down his cheeks as he did so. The medic went forward, placing his hand on Bolin's neck, ignoring the pleas of Zhixen to do something. He then stood up shaking his head.

"Blood loss." Was all the medic said, we opted to have the bodies brought back for Alfada for a proper burial instead of out here. I then realized Bolin was carrying heads and the corpse I was about to bury was decapitated…I didn't bring that up with anyone. While carrying back the wounded and dead, we found the Ratlings, but when I counted there were only four of them.

"Aye Ruru, where's Ngaio?" I asked, he was the one with the coat, the one who could get things. Ruru just looked at me his expression hidden with a bandana.

"Tank shell got him." I nodded, the rest of the ratlings looked sad, that put them down to four. I continued with the rest of my squad as we walked to Alfada, with daybreak hitting us.

It didn't take as long as expected to get back to Alfada. We took the corpses to the cemetery. Zhixen stayed at his brothers side the entire way, ignoring the pleas of medical staff to have his chest wound examined. That left us all wondering where Ross was. We all knew that he couldn't be alive. No one survives a day in no man's land.

The next two days had a sense of overhanging dread. Zhixen didn't speak for that entire time, sitting on his own with a piece of paper in one hand and a pen in the other. Struggling to think of something to write home. The rest of us were scribbling away, as mail day was upon us.

'Dear Family

We lost a great deal in the past few days. Bolin was killed in action during operations against the heretics. But I'm more concerned that he went mad. He went about murdering enemies with a shovel, before collapsing due to blood loss. Ross has also gone missing, may the Emperor protect him. But still I shall carry on my duty for you. I hope you are all going well back home, better than us.

Love, Bruce Duwal'

I then slid it into the envelope and placed it with the others in a bundle for the mailman to pick up. Zhixen did find something to write down, he wrote down two words and placing the charms that Bolin had around his neck in the envelope. He then went back to sulking by himself. He was moved to the autocannon shooter while Jackson became the new loader.

"Hey mates, I'm back from the dead!" We heard the familiar voice of Lance as he came through the trench. We all looked up at him. His happy smile turned to a blank expression and as he looked around it turned to sadness.

"Oh" Was all he said as he sat down next to me. He put some billy tea into his mess tray as we went back to silence. Lance was given back the vox caster. He also had a wound stripe on his sleeve.

They said the siege would last for eight weeks, we were all raising our billy tea trays to the fifth month that we held this port. We had all been in the guard for over one and a half years, exempt sergeant who had been in for way longer. Time really flies when the next day could be your last. Most of that time was spent waiting for orders. Most of this siege was just sitting in a dusty hole.

I kept looking over the trench, hoping that Ross would be there, all well and fine. He had been missing for weeks now. Probably dead, sacrificed to some dark god these heathens worshipped. I was tired, my sleep was restless and uncomfortable, and my crotch had been flaring up all night. I volunteered to take over Jackson's watch as he could get some sleep that I couldn't. I doubted my eyes when I saw a figure approaching the line. As I rubbed some of the tiredness out of them the creature had jumped forward. That is when I saw the curvy outline of a woman, with a purple tinge.

"SHIT!" I went down to wake up the others, to find none of them there; I was alone in this trench with only my lasgun, and whatever the thing was. I pulled the lasgun off my shoulder and turned to no mans land. My heart stopped when the creature was no longer there. But then my heart went into overdrive when I felt warm breath on the back of my neck.

"Hello handsome." It was right behind me, I couldn't turn, run or do anything. I was frozen in terror as the creature was so close I could feel its presence. I felt a hand wipe across my forehead as it took a bead of sweat on its finger. The air was thick with a fresh intoxicating smell, one that made everything seem…better.

"Come on sweetie, there's no reason to be afraid." The voice was sweet and sultry, slowing my heart rate. I was still pointing my lasgun out into the empty desert. I then felt hands caressing my torso. Reaching up underneath my tunic, pushing past the webbing to go across my skin. Feeling as if I was in a hot bath, something that I hadn't had for over a year now.

"Now do you know what your friend Ross is enjoying?" I could feel the creatures hand move over me, with skin that felt smooth as marble. Warm, not the baking heat that I had felt for ages. Warmth that made me felt comfortable, like of someone living.

"No." Is all I could muster, the creature grabbed me and gently pulled me around to look at it…I couldn't see its face as it was right up against my cheek. But looking down it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

"Would you like to find out?" She wrapped her hand around my neck, hanging off me as she pulled her face away for me to lay eyes upon. Her eyes were pitch black, with dark purple flowing hair and with young, smooth unblemished skin. The strangest features were a dark purple horn coming out of the right side of her head, and bits of carapace like armour on her lower arms. She then moved closer to me, with her nose touching mine. With one of her hands she took my lasgun and threw it aside.

"Ye…n…n…" She held a single finger up to my mouth to stop my stuttering, she then followed it up by bringing her lips to mine. She tasted sweet, as she started to passionately envelope me. I pushed her away, but she didn't really mind. I wanted to do it again, every part of my being wanted her again. To feel her, to taste her, she was both intriguing and alluring.

"Now if you want to do that again and maybe a little more, all you need to do is cross that land and the true rulers of this galaxy will embrace you." She pointed out to no man's land, I turned and peered over there, I then turned back to her. She stared directly into my eyes as I did to the black beautiful orbs of hers.

…

What was I doing? Succumbing to this creature before me, tempting me with smut and attention in exchange for my friends and the light of the Emperor. My family back home of Arala, my squad, my regiment and the emperor would be judging me with fury. She continued her half lidded sultry look of seduction.

"Don't worry, your friends are getting attention too…Do you want some more convincing?" She then enveloped me again in another kiss, rougher than the last one. I returned it this time, enjoying every second of it.

They had my friends, the thought lingered in my mind before I fully realized, and we're all seeing it, we must all know of this creature or…creatures? I quickly pulled out of the embrace and stared down at her. My mates were in danger of being corrupted. But they weren't here…did they cross no mans land without me? Were they tempted? What about Sergeant, surely he couldn't fall to this? I needed to know.

"What's wrong…Don't you want this?" She gesturing to herself, her exquisite body putting all women I had seen to shame. I wanted her…but I wanted my friends to be safe first.

"N…n…no." I said, she stared at me looking concerned, but then went back to her usual charming smile. She then came forward again, intertwining her toned legs around mine and embracing me again.

"Maybe you should see a little more." She then began to throw aside the little clothing she had, leaving herself totally exposed to me. However I could not see them as she was up against me. I diverted my eyes looking up at the sky. She then pushed my head down to stare. From what I could see it was lovely. NO! I could not let her do this to me. I reached around her hour glass figure for my bayonet, taking it from its sheath.

"You didn't harm me the first time, what says you would now?" I fully removed the blade and pointed it towards her smooth belly. Infantry and basic training taught us how to use our bayonets as swords. She didn't react and instead came closer, pouring her beauty onto me. I continued aiming the blade but didn't just strike her down. I didn't resist as she turned around and laid herself against me. Feeling the other side of her body…She combed her hands through my hair, pushing my slouch hat off my head. Giving me the slightest view of her front naked form. Along with a very good feel of her backside, setting my arousal into overdrive.

I stabbed her.

With an upward slice into her belly, she stumbled back but didn't scream. I yanked the blade out of her and she fell to the ground. She then began laughing, but I ignored her, I then noticed there was no blood on my bayonet. But I had more things to worry about, I had to find my mates.

"SERGEANT? LANCE? JACKSON? VICTRUS? ANYONE?" I ran down one of the trench corridors, but stopped when a purple flash came towards me followed by an excruciating pain in my stomach. One of her hands was now a long crab claw, impaling me. As I began to cry out in pain, desperately swinging with my blade she gave me gave me another kiss. As soon she did all the pain just washed away. She then pushed me onto my back as I was left to bleed to death.

"Bruce? Bruce! GET THE FUCK UP PRIVATE DUWAL!" I shot up, I was still in the trench with sergeant standing over me. I felt my stomach, no wound, I was fine I looked around to see my mates, all of them still sleeping. I was leaning up against the wall of the trench, must have dozed off on duty.

"Thank the Emperor, now I'm not going to judge you private. But what happened in your sleep?" His voice was of concern, at first I wanted to tell him everything, but what were the others seeing? I began mumbling.

"What did you see?" I also realised I was still quite aroused, but I hopped from the way I was sitting he didn't see. I thought to myself how do I say this.

"There was this…woman. Said that if I went to the enemy I would be able to…root her? She never said that was the reward but she said Ross was enjoying something." Sergeant looked around at the others in grim thought, then over the trench. He the placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"We have an offensive in two days time. I need you all ready for it…I'm proud of you for making it this far." I did not sleep that night…I had so many unanswered questions.

 **AN**

 **First time I ever wrote a scene like that, probably not going to the be last. See you all soon.**


	22. The Rats of Alfada

**It has been a while, I do have the next chapter ready I just need to edit it. Also over 20 follows is a milestone for me. Thank you for that.**

Chapter 22: The Rats of Alfada

'TAU EMPIRE EXPANDING! THE IMPERIUM SHALL HALT IT

The foul xenos of the Tau empire are expanding into imperial space, spreading more of their heretical philosophy of the greater good. Arala is situated near this new opening for the war front, but system commanders have already devised a brilliant plan to defend imperial space. The fortress moon of Feijie stands in the xenos way, built to hold the might of the imperial navy for a defensive blockade. Even if the Tau get ground troops on the moon, the might of the Imperial Guard composed of several regiments including Aralians will be ready for them. Which will lead to another great victory in the name of the Emperor!'

The article was on the first page of the Alfada papers, the newspaper service run by guardsmen and some administratum adepts. Sergeant looked increasingly agitated over the past few days, not sleeping and sometimes just staring off into space longer than usual. Zhixen was still depressed, Ross was still missing, Jackson was fine, Liam learnt his older sister had got married, Lance learnt his youngest brother had finished guard training. No attacks happened, they actually hadn't happened in a while now. As we stood guard in the holes, around midday we were alerted to a metallic screeching, followed by a tapping noise.

"It's on?…Ok good…*Throat clearing*…This is a message to those poor Guardsmen in Alfada, stuck like rats in a trap." The voice was calm and clear, it was definitely amplified and was coming from no mans land.

"To know that these brave men of Arala, Preatoria and Tallarn have been left in rough holes in the sandy ground to die. To have these brave men risk their souls for a pointless cause that they can only give their lives for. But I am not here to accuse the colonels and generals, I am here to console these brave souls in the trenches and forts. To ask them a simple question. Is this port worth it?" We laughed at this, the fact we were being praised by the enemy, the fact what he was saying was true to some extend and the fact the enemy was applauding us was hilarious.

"You have lost so much already, why don't you just give up and accept the fact that you cannot hold on forever. Also to note that we, as warriors of chaos or how you refer to it as the 'Arch Enemy' and 'heretics' are truly blessed to serve. As your emperor only watches from his decaying throne on Terra, Chaos rewards the faithful with all manner of gifts." We continued to laugh, they had lost much more men than us. The still smelling corpse piles confirmed that. We then continued to listen to the rest this dick had to say.

"These gifts you despise as mutations, but we accept to make us stronger and more powerful than ever before. And while your Corpse Emperor sits in silence on Terra, the true gods reward any who serves them well. Khorne favours the warrior, Nurgle favours the generous, Tzeench favours the wise and Slaanesh favours the artist. The four gods of chaos readily embrace you guardsmen, all you need to do is to accept them." On Arala we were taught from a young age to spot mutations, and to tell anyone of a mutant we saw. That is when the blue healers would hunt the mutant down and put it out of its misery. I hated mutants, we all hated mutants. They would wander Arala raiding farms and isolated settlements. Even when my mum and dad returned home they found work as mutant shooters. All the illustrations of the Emperor I had seen were in church books and he looks fine to me. Not like a corpse, but an angelic figure encased in gold armour, in a grand palace on Holy Terra.

"For we speak for the guardsmen in the dusty holes, we speak for the men in the trenches and fortresses. We speak for those poor rats of Alfada. In a trap forced to die by men that will not care for their suffering." We could see through that a bit differently, they don't speak for us, we will hold this port until we all die of old age.

"Those poor rats of Alfada." Was the ending message of the speaker, we did enjoy the message as it was a bit of a break from the boredom, and we thought 'rats of Alfada' was a good name for us.

As we were doing our usual job of sitting in the trenches, we could see the black coat and hat heading towards us. When victrus was walking through the corridor, he looked like shit. His eyes were baggy and there was a certain smell of recaf that followed him, he moved like a hound on its last legs. While I was smoking I inhaled too strongly and some leaves tickled my throat. As soon as I coughed, Victrus was lifted from his drowsy state.

"SHUT UP GUARDSMAN!" He pointed at me, I also saw he was reaching for his plasma pistol with the other hand. His face was red with anger, it then went back to the paleness of before. After that he wiped his forehead of sweat and continued to wander down the trench. We all looked at each other with the same expression.

"What the fuck was that about?" I asked the others, the others just shrugged, exempt Liam who spoke out.

"Stimm?"

"What?" I asked, Liam took another drink of billy tea, then turned back to me.

"Stimm…When I worked in a pharmacy for a short while, we had to care for distribution for some drugs as they were used in the making of a drug known as stimm. It's a drug used to mask pain and keeps the user awake. Could be stimm addict for all we know, certainly looks like what happens when it wears off." Liam finished. We waited out the rest of the day, and all of us were afraid of going to sleep, I was for sure. To see that woman or thing again, and be impaled again. But when sleep did happen, it was dreamless…strangely.

Today was the day before the offensive, first half of the day we were relieved from our guard duty. Lance tried to convince us into playing some cricket or footy, but no one could be bothered. Too tired and hot to do anything, and too hot and scared to sleep properly. The rest of the day the 11th was ordered to go sleep in the barracks, to be rested up for a night battle. Not just a patrol, but to take a ridge that would be vital for holding open a corridor for an Imperial relief of Alfada.

Most of my clothing I had to peel away from my skin, with sweat gluing the fabric to me. After removing my boots I had to shake out the sand and sweat crystals at the bottom. Dick also emphasised that guardsmen had to take very good care of their feet. That's why we had a spare pair of socks in our backpacks. He also told us if our boots got too hard resulting in blisters we should do the 'sweet pee mixture'. Which involves pissing in our boots and leaving them overnight, just remembering to empty them out in the morning. I yanked the sock off and took my clothing to the laundry bin.

Then I imagined how bad we must all smell. Sweat, dried blood, dirt, body odour and any other manner of things to be found on the battlefield. But because we all smelled equally bad it didn't bother us. The closest thing to brushing our teeth was the fluoride tablets. That was along with the vitamin tablets used to keep scurvy at bay. Bully beef and hard biscuits weren't too healthy for the gob. Just getting a wash with a moist rag made us feel refreshed in this heat.

Looking around we all kind of looked the same, scraggly facial hair ranging from patchy beards to thick stubble. Dry shaving and a lack of sharp razor blades, giving us a gruff look, but we weren't allowed to grow beards. We could grow moustaches or sideburns. Some men discovered the bayonet makes a decent substitute razor. The only problem being it could cut flesh just as easily as hair. There was a story going around about a man who managed to slit his throat during his shave with a bayonet. But I think it was just a scare story by officers to discourage us from doing just that.

Our skin had grown bright red from the constant sun exposure, making us look like raw meat left out in the sun. If it wasn't red it was flaking. Being in the baking heat for that long cracked the flesh sucking out the moisture for our skin to become as dry as the desert around us. We were given a clean set of underclothing to sleep in, it felt like silk compared to the uniforms.

I was lying in my bed, however it wasn't my crotch keeping me awake. Looking up at the top bunk, thinking about pretty much everything that had happened to me so far. I was trying to make sense of it all. What is chaos? Who are the gods? What was that thing that tried to seduce me? I looked around at the guardsmen in this dorm, some were reading and writing home. I could hear Lance snoring in the bunk above mine, everyone in our squad exempt Sergeant and I were sleeping. I wondered over to sergeant's bedside, and sat on the floor beside him, he was reading a newspaper.

"What is it private?" He said, I really wondered what he would respond with, especially how Victrus told us to ignore the hallucinations and dreams. But sergeant was far more experienced, and he probably won't yell at me…as much.

"What…is that woman who harasses us? Who or what is Khorne and what is chaos?" I whispered it, he stopped and thought, he then closed the newspaper and sat to look at me.

"Bruce…I have been in the guard for a long time…longer than you have lived. After touring across the galaxy you begin to have an idea. That idea is that if it can happen…it does. You begin to not question it and realise it just happens. I had a man in my platoon in the first AIF, he began to ask similar questions to you, try and figure it all out. When he leant the truth, about chaos and the gods the heretics worship, he tried to warn us. He was found out and executed for heresy…His name was Hugh Ellet." That name…that's the last name of Sebastian…but his dad was killed in combat during the Gali campaign. That is unless?

"What I'm trying to say is, ignorance is a blessing. Now while I have lived this long by not looking to far ahead, I have also made sure to follow the people before me. I had a good sergeant to follow, a veteran who had fought his fair share of wars. So listen to personal experience, and don't stare to far into this galaxy, there might be something looking back at you." None of that helped, no questions answered and I was just back to how I was before.

"Cheers sergeant." I stood up and went back to my bunk, lying down and after a little while of staring up at Lance's bunk I finally drifted off.

After a sleep we were all woken and ordered to get dressed, some of us slept better than others. I remember having a dream that I can't recall. The regiment had gathered outside where Rouch was standing atop some boxes, Victrus at his side. He had a sheet of paper in his hand. We also realised officers weren't excluded from the 'rats of Alfada' look. Rouch's moustache went past his lips like a curtain and his greying hair was long. He then began his speech.

"Dear guardsmen of the 11th regiment of the AIF, that's you lot by the way. First off we will be leaving at sun down so be ready but before then we have an announcement. The departmento munitorum has decided that the rats of Alfada deserve a reward for holding on for this long against the orks and heretics. Even though we could all agree that a pay rise, cold beer and some whores would be nice, they have gifted us instead with fruit cake. These treats have been payed for by your families and come with letters. Now get in a line, officers in one everyone else in the other. Enjoy!" He then jumped off the boxes and disappeared began helping distribute cakes. The cake came in a round tin, sealed shut with sticky tape. I got my letter and went to sit down on the scorched ground.

'Dear Bruce

Hope this tastes good and we are still thinking of you, we are doing fine. Adriano's mother has been a complete wreck since hearing the death of her son. The Li's have also had a hard time dealing with Bolin's death and the Brown's have been panicking. Darryl will be to be able to join up in a couple months, guess guardsmen is starting to become a family business. Your father's still holding up, and I would love to see you again. Stay safe please.

Love, your Mother'

I sat next to Lance who was already halfway through his cake and had an opened letter stuffed into his shirt pocket. He managed to get near the front of the cue.

"How's the family?" I said while attempting to lever off the lid with my bayonet.

"Good…My brother has just completed basic training and has been sent to Feigie. How's yours?" We all got together, I noticed that sergeant didn't get any cake. Jackson didn't either, in fact Jackson looked like he was still trying to get to sleep.

"Good, Darryl's going to join in a couple of months." Lance chuckled letting some crumbs fall out of his mouth, I joined him in laughing.

"Darryl? The one who spends most of his time with a face in a book…in the guard? Won't even survive Dick…no less his first battle." It was this time that I managed to crack my tin open with my bayonet, the smell was sweet and pungent. With a whiff of Amasec, probably soaked in it to act as a preservative, I began to slice it up for eating. Shovelling it my mouth I was immediately in bliss, being the best tasting thing in months. Partly because it wasn't just bully beef and biscuits.

Lance happily chewed another mouthful before he then had a coughing fit. I went to pat him on the back, must have just breathed it in a bit enthusiastically. He then started retching, as if he was trying to vomit, we all got up to help him.

"You all right mate?" I asked, he looked at me with wide eyes and a pale face, pushing me out of the way. His head moved back and forth like a cat trying to cough up a fur ball. Before making a squelching noise from his mouth, and a gurgling cough. With green oily substance dribbling down his chin. It was followed by bits of both yellow bile and blackness before a slimy object came out of his mouth. We all could only watch in horror as it then slopped onto the sandy ground, covered in a mucus substance. Several other guardsmen followed by throwing up their past meals, being only standard vomit. I stared down at my cake, looked fine.

Victrus came through the crowed and looked at the thing on the ground, immediately holding his mouth to stop himself from following the others. After taking a deep breath he then turned back to all of us.

"What's happening here?" He said, I was helping Lance to sit up. He was coughing up more of the black and green substance from his mouth catching on his tunic. I helped the water bottle to his mouth, he rinsed then took a couple swigs. Victrus looked around at the scene before him, before reaching for the thing on the ground. Just as he was about to touch the slime covered object it began writhing back and forth with the sound of stuck pig. It was met with screams of horror followed by three plasma pistol shots from Victrus. Even Victrus looked scared, whatever it was became a pile of melted slag that soaked into the sand.

"At ease guardsmen, at ease." Victrus said calmly while holstering his smoking pistol and walking off, leaving us all stunned. I didn't feel hungry anymore but it didn't stop sergeant from finishing my fruit cake. Lance recovered with some gulps of billy tea. A medic had a quick look at him and he was fine. Guardsmen from then on only asked for a letter, I think we all have had enough cake for a while.

A couple of hours later we were arming up and ready to go on the offensive with the sun moving below the horizon. While getting my armour on I noticed Jackson fumbling with some of his straps, sluggishly trying to move the buckles about.

"No sleep mate?" He didn't respond for a few seconds before he looked up, the bags under his eyes had bags under them. He chuckled as he finally fed the strap through the steel.

"Nah…When I go to sleep I get nightmares…all seem to have my girlfriend being killed…If I want anyone to live through this war it's her." His voice was slurred and he could be mistaken for being moderately drunk, but he had not received any alcohol infused cake. He was just weary.

"Just a nightmare mate, if you need to stay awake I think Liam still has some sweets on him." I continued doing up my armour, wrapping up my webbing then picking up my lasgun, moving outside. After donning my helmet and throwing the lasgun over my shoulder I stood at the ready.

"ALRIGHT MEN OUTSIDE ON THE DOUBLE!" We marched out, Jackson having to slap himself awake and did a low determined growl as we formed up. Other regiments featuring Praetorian's and Tallarn's will join us in this attack. However heavy lifting will be done by regiments pushing towards alfada from the warfront. With guardsmen already skirmishing towards the exit, with tank formations amongst them. A full moon was over us, illuminating the silhouette of the desert. The voice of the captain played in the vox caster.

"COMPANY…SKIRMISHING ORDER…FORWARD MARCH!" Another battle.

Another day.

 **AN**

 **Thank you for this, I would love reviews, favourites and follows. Bye for now.**


	23. What a Helluva Way to Die

**Thank you for everyone still following the story. A slightly shorter chapter compared to the other recent ones.**

What a Helluva Way To Die

Several hours into the march it was near silent, the only noise being the jingling of gear, boots hitting the ground and the occasional cough. We kept our heads forward and didn't say a word. Whether because of fear or something else I don't know.

"He was a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright." Sergeant began singing a song as we continued to cross the deserts of Shamal. He was probably trying to brighten the mood for now.

"The Tech priest gave him a gun, that meant more than his life." I joined in with him, so did some of the others, we then all looked at each other with grinning faces.

"The plasma gun in his hand glowed a warm and tender light!" I took a deep breath for the next line. A unified voice then sounded through the rolling winds.

"YOU AIN'T GONNA FIGHT NO MORE!" We raised our voices to shouting in time with the chorus kicking in. Everyone knew the chorus of this song, roaring out of the guardsmen around us.

'"GLORY! GLORY WHAT A HELLUVA WAY TO DIE!" It was now night time on our side of Shamal, and we were still walking across the desert in skirmishing order.

"GLORY! GLORY WHAT A HELLUVA WAY TO DIE!" We were partway through the advance, I don't know why the officers didn't tell us to shut up seeing we were now as bad as the enemy at staying quiet.

"GLORY! GLORY WHAT A HELLUVA WAY TO DIE!" We could hear the thundering of guns in the very distance, which were the battles that were going on between both imperial and renegade forces. Maybe a couple orks if they were around.

"AND HE AIN'T GONNA FIGHT NO MORE!" The song was an ancient guardsmen song, apparently going down through Terra's history before the Great Crusade.

"IS EVERYBODY HAPPY CRIED THE SERGEANT LOOKING ON!" Many regiments had personalised versions, such as drop regiments who called it 'blood on the grav-chutes' and there was an official version that was used in the Horus Heresy by loyalists.

"OUR HERO FEEBLY ANSWERED YES, AND WENT A-MARCHING ON!" Well not really personalised versions but more parodied versions about war and other features of guardsmen life.

"WITH A GLINT IN HIS EYE AND WEAPON IN HAND!" We still had to keep a look out for anything out of the ordinary, but what counts as weird after what happened to Lance?

"YOU AIN'T GONNA FIGHT NO MORE!" This song in particular was about the dangers of wielding a plasma gun, with the chance that it will blow up. Quite funny as up ahead I could see a veteran holding one.

We repeated the chorus, the night air felt cold on my face and hands. I enjoyed singing, reminded me of the scouts when we went on walks through the bush. We had sung during basic training, we had sung during infantry training, we had sung before and after battle. Music kept up our spirits and had a reason for our mouths to move.

"HOLDING HIS NEW FIREARM OUR HERO HE STOOD UP!" Dick stated how singing was one of the greatest ways to boost morale. How they did it before charges in Gali and in other battles in his tour of duty.

"THE XENOS, HE KNEW THEY WOULD COME TO EAT HIM UP!" The night air was thicker than usual, with a large hint of purplish pink to it.

"HE LIFTED UP HIS PLASMA GUN AND WITH FAITH AS A WHOLE!" The scent would change from dry, to slightly sweet. Like the scent of flowers.

"YOU AIN'T GONNA FIGHT NO MORE!" The usual wild life of the planet had changed alot for an unknown reason.

We repeated the chorus. The small tufts of grass reminded me of human hands, pointing out of the ground. The sand morphed into human looking faces. The macabre effigies the enemy had erected complimented this nicely. This ranged from small piles of skulls to impaled corpses with unholy carvings into them. I even saw a rat with two heads. With another rat that I swore had a large eye coming from its back. As if they were mutated and twisted, which made me think did the heretics spread mutations with them as an influence? I know all mutants are heretics, but are all heretics mutants?

"HE WAS QUICKLY ON THE GROUND, HIS ARM T'WAS A SHRED!"

"HE YELLED EVERY CURSE WORD, THEN HE LAYED DOWN DEAD!"

"THE MEDIC AND THE ENGINSEER TURNED AS THEY SAID!"

"That he ain't gonna a fight no more!" Our song was cut off by a voice that didn't sound like hard leather and made heads dart around in panic. It was feminine, and sounded as sweat as silk and honey. I could see her out in the desert, waving one of her armoured hands at me, then blew me a kiss. I could feel her soft lips connect with my rough cheek.

"KEEP SINGING!" Victrus ordered, I snapped my head forward and took a deep breath as I continued the chorus.

"GLORY GLORY WHAT A HELLUVA WAY TO DIE!" Eventually we kept going, all of us kept the tune up and marched on, stomping our boots harder into the rough ground.

"GLORY GLORY WHAT A HELLUVA WAY TO DIE!" I didn't look to see her, and I wondered if anyone else could see her. Maybe everyone had their own creature that tried to seduce them.

"GLORY GLORY WHAT A HELLUVA WAY TO DIE!" I don't know what to call the creature that has bits of carapace, horns and purplish skin. I didn't know what creature she could be.

"AND HE AIN'T GONNA FIGHT NO MORE!" I looked back at the others, who also kept heads forward, I felt we all knew they existed it was just no one was brave enough to speak about it.

"QUICK MARCH!" We heard over the vox casters. We then broke into a jog through the sand, the clattering of equipment joining the poor excuse for singing.

"AND HE AAAAAN'T GONNA FIGHT NOOO MOOOOOOORE!" But it was singing nonetheless, and we enjoyed a little musical number between the constant horrors and struggles of war.

"MOVE MOVE MOVE!" As the song finished the order had us all start running, I didn't even notice that we were this close to the ridge it looked much further than I thought. We clambered our way up the rocky road and made our way up to the top of the hill.

"WE FORTIFY THIS HILL…GET DIGGING!" After maintaining the trenches for so long, we had become experts at fortification building.

We planned who needed to dig where using a rough outline of the hill. Breaking out shovels and entrenching tools we got to work shoveling, prying and hacking our way into the ground, and filling sand bags. By daybreak we had a small fortress set up, including a small command bunker (a tent), a lavatory (a pit) and had set up a perimeter of mines and barbed wire. All with roughly six hundred men spread out along trenches, giving a good view of the desert. I wasn't phased as I slept with the sun heating up my helmet and my head leaning on Lance's shoulder. We expected to be shot at, to see some enemy scouts wondering why a fort was erected in their backyard, or maybe the feeling of that creatures hand's on my skin. The only other feeling I had was in my crotch, an itchy one.

I did have time to do some more self philosophy. Who are the people we are fighting? Clearly they worship something other than the Emperor. Those gods the man mentioned in his speech, Khorne Nurgle Slaanesh and Tzeench (zeench? tzch? I don't know how to spell it). Something I didn't want to delve into too far on Sergeant's advice. After several hours, around midday Sergeant roused us from rest.

"Right men, get up we're moving out." He ordered. The operation was that an imperial night time assault would lead to a relief column reaching Alfada. All we had to do was sit and wait for them to arrive, and maybe hold off an enemy attempt at reinforcements.

"But…Sergeant we?" Liam said before sergeant shut him up.

"The attack failed to break through…the operation has been aborted." Sergeant said reaching for his chainsword, I picked up my lasgun and went to empty the sand bags.

"Leave the bags, we don't have time." Sergeant stated, we did as he said and left the canvas sacks, I gathered up my gear and stood at ease.

"Let's move it mates!" Sergeant barked as we jumped the trench to leave the fortress. We arrived in the bitter cold and now we will walk back in the baking heat. The sun glared at us the entire time, shining off the rocks and into our squinting eyes.

"Sergeant…we're sitting ducks here…shouldn't we have moved at night?" Zhixen spoke up, breaking the silence that we have had for the past hour since we left the holes on a hill, and went to the holes around a spaceport.

"Rouch stated that we should move while the enemy doesn't know we're here." Empty silence continued to stay thick in the air. We then looked up at the approaching noise. The grumbling of engines broke the next few minutes of silence as we all stared up to see planes belching streams of black fumes across the sky. The exhaust trails definitely made them ork planes, five of them to be exact.

"Do you think they've seen us?" Liam asked, they were flying away…then they began turning around, and heading towards us. They maintained formation, which was strange for orks, and they started descending.

"I think they have." I stated, next thing I knew I was flat on my back with a pain shooting up my abdomen and the sun in my eyes. It was then followed by the sounds of lasfire and screams.

"AMBUSH!" Was the word heard over the jumble of voices, I held my belly and could feel the heat of the lasround still irradiating off my flesh. I didn't have a fear of dying of blood loss due to the wound being cauterised by the heat. An infection due to the various acids in my intestines was a bigger threat.

"BRUCE IS DOWN!" I heard as I felt someone drag me by my webbing, I tilted my head back to see Lance pulling me with one hand while firing his lasgun with the other. He then heaved me into a crater, getting on his belly nearby to return fire.

"You're going to be fine mate, just hold still." Lance yelled while rapidly letting off lasrounds to an enemy that was out of my view. I had been shot in the chest before, my flak armour saved me, this is the first time it had impacted with skin. I tried my best not to scream, but I let out a mixture of curses with swear words and 'fucks' leaving my mouth.

"I've been shot twice, the second time wasn't as bad." Lance joked while going through my backpack to find bandages. I tried to turn and help him, only for my nerves to remind me of the hole in my belly. After getting the bandage wrapped over my tunic, and tying it off he got back to fighting. We then both looked at each other with wide eyes and chilled spines when we could here the sounds of orchestral instruments.

"HOLY TERRA WILL BE ERASED!…FOR THE GODS!…CHAOS BE PRAISED!" The sand nearby kicked up when a battle cannon round bounced across it. Sergeant then dived into the crater, ignoring me and going straight for Lance.

"What's the colonel saying?" Sergeant ordered, Lance stopped and pushed the ear piece further into his ear while using his hand to cover the other.

"I'M NOT GETTING ANYTHING…JUST STATISHIT." Lance didn't finish as ork plane strafed the ground, getting so low we could smell the chocking fumes from the crude engines.

"FUCK!" Sergeant shouted, he then bent over me and looked at my wound, he then turned to me.

"CAN YOU WALK?" He yelled directly in my face over the sound of another battle cannon shell hitting nearby. I shook my head, my throat felt like sandpaper and I was in agony from my abdomen, I don't think I could walk, but I didn't want to stay here.

"HELP HIM UP!" They each wrapped a hand around each of my shoulders and began dragging me while under fire, It was at this point I got a good view of the battlefield. As much as I could with the sun in my face.

A dust cloud in the distance followed rolling tanks while light shows were emitted from dug in enemy positions. Meanwhile planes flew overhead and the corpses of guardsmen were scattered across the ground. They must have seen us heading to the hill, and decided, why attack a heavily defended position of men experienced in the art of defending trenches. When you can attack them with the sun in their faces out in the open with no support whatsoever. My experience of being dragged ended with being thrown into a crater so shallow that the tops of our helmets were probably visible.

"Good to see some people are still alive." Zhixen shouted, along with Jackson they had set up the autocannon to return fire. This was like the patrol all over again, exempt that time both sides were just as unaware as the other. Now we were the ones getting ambushed.

"WHERE'S THE MEDIC?" Lance cried, good to see he was looking out for me, known him for most my life and he's still a good mate. That's when I saw Liam slide into the crater, he was holding his arm up with blood dripping down, with a sock wrapped around it. He also had blood splattered across his chest, and some red on his grenade launcher.

"IT'S JUST A SCRATCH I'LL BE FINE!" At least the squad was back together, but now we were orderless, leaderless, and pinned down without a medic. Not the best situation, but it could be worse.

"WHAT DO WE DO?" Lance yelled as he slammed a fresh charge pack into his lasgun. I could probably fight too with some painkillers, but now I was just dead weight. We all looked over when the autocannon went silent. Zhixen was slumped over it with a hole through one of his eyes. Exiting out the back of his skull and singeing his hair. He was definitely dead. We didn't help him as the enemy kept us busy. Sergeant just lay staring at the corpse of the second Li twin. His eyes wide open and his hand trembling. He then silently looked around at the rest of us and then down at his shaking hands. I had never seen sergeant like this. His face was pale, and mouth open ignoring all the battle around him. He then reached to move Zhixen's corpse out the way.

"Men…grab his tags and get ready to run." Sergeant's voice trembled, giving us all bad feelings, Jackson moved Li's body off the gun and took the tags from his neck. Sergeant crawled and latched onto the autocannon, then placed his dog tags into my hand.

"Don't you look back, I'll hold them off. You just keep running back to Alfada." He then began pulling the trigger, Jackson and Lance went to grab me, with an arm under my shoulder before getting ready to run.

"RUN!" As we stood up the sound of grinding metal echoing through the air and standing over us was a nine-foot tall bulky armoured figure decorated in flayed flesh and severed heads. The red and brass armour covered in a swirling mixture of fresh and crusted blood. With a deafening metallic roar and a gore drenched, roaring blade in the shape of a double headed axe.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" We stood there in shock two as autocannon rounds hit it before it brought its weapon down on sergeant. Reaching for his chainsword sergeant brought up the blade, catching it as revving teeth met and sparks flew.

"LEAVE ME! JUST GO!" Sergeant desperately yelled as Lance and Liam kept moving with me still watching, sergeant stood before having to kneel under the pressure. Even when he was out of sight I could still hear the shrill scream of pain and the mulching of bone and flesh under the tearing teeth. A ripping noise followed as I saw the armoured giant holding a head into the air.

"SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!"

We met up with some survivors, a ragtag bunch of other members of different companies. I think the only reason the enemy stopped is due to being out of ammo. I was placed on a stretcher and drugged. But when we walked back into Alfada I remembered sergeants tags in my hand. I realised he did this on purpose, he knew he was going to die. He gave me his dog tags at the exact moment he was going to die. Both of the Li brothers were dead, and most of the 11th was dead or missing.

Six hundred men left this port.

Only ninety had returned.

And I had a hole through my intestines.

And the reason we were still alive, only the Emperor could answer.

 **AN**

 **Thank you for reading, I am considering changing the first chapter to be more relevant to the plot. I also have the next two chapters ready to go, just needing some edits. I also have another story in the works. Don't forget to review please.**


	24. Lettering Recovery

**Another chapter, even if I wanted this weeks chapter to be for my new story this will do. I'm glad how far this far and I am hoping to get to the halfway mark of the story very soon.**

* * *

Lettering Recovery

I don't really recall what happened over the next few days other than my mind was swimming in drugs and painkillers. But when I did finally come to my senses I was in a medical wing back at the capital, surrounded by hundreds of fellow wounded in various stages of recovering or dying. From asking around I had found out that most AIF elements had been recalled from Alfada being replaced with fresher regiments of other imperial planets. The 'Rats of Alfada' were deemed too physically and mentally unwell to be 'combat competent'. So they replace seasoned veterans like us with men who haven't even met a heretic in their life. The AIF were to be placed in reserve to be retrained and reorganised following the massive casualties over the last few battles. This meant the 11th no longer existed and was getting merged into the 28th. Good seeing it was a fellow regiment from the city of Mooro. Among the dead was Colonel Rouch who was one of the first to die in the ambush. His chimera got hit by a battle cannon round and it became his coffin. Victrus's fate is unknown seeing he wasn't confirmed dead, but this was the same with most of the regiment. I was talking to the wounded men around me. Some were Preatorians, others Tallarns, and some new regiments including Mordian Iron Guard, Drookian Fen Guard and Cadians. All had stories to tell.

"So I come out of the smouldering wreck…first thing I see a heretic. The look on his face when he sees a smoke covered purely black figure emerge from the sand was hilarious. Heh. He dropped his lasgun and ran away like a little girl." A Tallarn tank crewman was explaining his story giving us all a chuckle, even though it hurt for me to laugh. He had the standard tanned Tallarn skin which was mostly covered in non-stick burn bandages.

"Well of course at the time my head was spinning and this happened." He raised the stump that was his right arm, wrapped up in a tourniquet and covered up.

"Blast must have cauterised the wound otherwise I would have bled out on the spot." We nattered for some more time before a Preatorian spoke up. He had a small neat moustache.

"Ok boys…so I'm off from the camp takin a shit roit, and while I'm squating over the 'ole two orks walk in on me. Now I start panickin as one of the orks charges me. But the other greenskin grabs im and goes 'youz wait I get tah foit em firzt'. The other ork turns back and shouts 'you'z got to foit last time now it'z me turn'. Then they get into a brawl right then and there." It may have been the drugs but I was laughing more than usual, but we all had very good stories. This man was a Praetorian grenadier with a bandage wrapped around his shoulder. One thing I noticed with the Praetorians was that they had two types of accents. The upperclass high gothic one the officers had. And the hiver accent the privates and NCO's had. This man had a thick hiver accent.

"I'm takin a shit in front of two orks fightin ta figure out who fights me with my pants down…I managed to pull up me trousers and off the both of them with grenade. Terrifying back then…hilarious now. The scratch is unrelated, got hit by a chunk of shrapnel. Fucking orks can't shoot for shit." I shared some of my stories including the riot, fort attack, the assault on Alfada, and other battles I was in. We were trying to one up each other with who's story was the most ridiculous. I eventually saw some short statured people moving amongst the beds with large packs. Exchanging goods and cash with the patients, something the nurses and medics ignored. When they got closer I recognised them.

"G'day Ruru." The ratling looked at me with a familiar smile, he had his three squad mates with him.

"Hey bro, looking fine I see." We shook hands, I explained my story of ending up in here while he filled me in on what had been happening over the past few days. His squad moved out with AIF, now they are going around the capital 'borrowing' anything they can find. He reached into his backpack.

"Oh yeah, one of your mates by the name Lance said to give you this." He presented a brown bottle of swan lager, I took it off him with glee. A taste of home. I guess he was paying me back for Alfada.

"Tell him I said thanks." With a nurse coming I covered the bottle with some blankets lay back down. Putting on the facade of still being in pain.

"OI FUCKING KIWI RUNTS GET OUT!" A doctor threatened from across the ward waving a bone saw. It sent the ratlings scarpering under beds and over trollies to nearest exit. For Ruru it meant springing off my bed and going straight out an open window.

"See you later bro!" He disappeared. I also had a pile up of mail near my bed, three featured an imperial seal, and were addressed from the departmento munitorum. When handling it I could feel something heavy inside, and upon opening found a medal and a letter. The medallion had a yellow, blue and red ribbon with a round, metal medal with the engravings of a rat. It read 'FOR THE EMPEROR' around the top with 'RATS OF ALFADA' under the rat. It came with a service ribbon. I took a gander at the letter.

'Dear Guardsmen of the Aralan Imperial Force

For your service in the defence of the port of Alfada, we have granted you a medal to recognise your sacrifice. This battle has been imperative in denying the arch enemy and xenos a safe port to land voidships. The sacrifice of you and your mates was not in vain.

May the Emperor be with you guardsman'

I set it aside, knowing the service ribbon was to wear as a miniature version and the medallion was to wear with a dress uniform. I went the next medal from the AIF. Opening it I found a wound stripe, and another letter.

'Dear Guardsmen of the Aralan Imperial Force

For sustaining injury and living you have been granted a wound stripe to wear on your uniform. This is to show to all that you have had an encounter with the enemy and lived to tell the tale with your own constitution and sense of duty.

May the Emperor be with you guardsman'

I set the wound stripe and letter near the Alfada medal and reached for the last medal from the great bureaucracy that I'm pretty sure mass produces these letters. Also known as the Departmento Munitorum. This one felt like it had another medal in it and I was right upon prying it open. The medal was a horizontal silver piece of metal with three skulls etched in a row. Again I unfolded the letter.

'Dear Guardsmen of the Imperium of Man

For taking part in a military action that indirectly caused over 66% of your regiment to be gloriously martyred for the Emperor. You and your fellow survivors have been awarded the triple skull. This medal is to show to others that you have taken part in a harrowing battle but have lived to serve another day in the Astra Millarum.

May the Emperor be with you Guardsman'

I placed the medal with the others. So I now had a reminder of my service in a siege that drained the life out of us, until we were nothing but tired walking skeletons. A stripe so I don't forget the pain and scar on my belly. Lastly a chunk of metal to say that the 11th got wiped out and my squad just didn't happen to be near the worst part of the fighting. I could understand why sergeant didn't seem to care about his medals. I reached for what I hoped was a slightly less depressing letter. One that didn't have a seal on it, and looked less official.

This one came from Sebastion, which made me wonder why he was sending a letter now after all these years.

' _Dear Bruce_

 _Long time no see mate. Sorry for not writing to you in all this time. I hope you are going well, and that the galaxy hasn't been to rough on you. After looking at the news of the increasing xenos threat nearer to home I have decided to finally join the PDF. My daughter can say whole sentences now, and the bank has been missing you. Eli's pub has felt empty with you lot away. Just a couple questions, how are the boys? Hows life on Shamal? You holding up? Anyway I_ _'_ _m so sorry for not sending a letter in all this time but I hope to see a reply soon._

 _Sincerely Sebastion_

 _P.S tell the others I said hi_ '

It was strange getting a letter from Sebastion, it had felt like I hadn't seen him in over a decade when it had only been nearly two years. I would have to wait to write a letter home, seeing my arm and finger coordination needed to return.

I hated the weeks in the hospital, at least the trenches has a certain degree of tenseness and quietness to them. Here the nurses natter non stop, someone won't stop whinging about their wounds or someones chucking up. It was impossible to sleep at night without the need for a creature to harass me. The bed was also not washed, I could feel salt crystals forming underneath it, the only ventilation was open windows, letting in flies. I got visits from the mates, describing their antics in the Capital, and the intense training regime. I managed to thank Lance when he arrived. The taste of swan lager gave me a sense of euphoria…and intoxication. Something I haven't had in a while. It sent me back on a trip down memory lane and had me realise how long it had been since I had seen home. The only time I wasn't on the bed was for checkups and baths. The bath was a wired up servitor harshly rubbing me down with a soaked cloth in an iron tub with not much hot water. However by the end I couldn't see the bottom of the tub the water was so opaque with grime. The water would cling to my body and made every movement uncomfortably humid. Check ups was to lift my shirt off and have the nurses and doctors prod the wound and look at the healing. When I could finally walk again, it was more of a stumble and I had a crutch. Apparently the round went through some nerves that needed healing, or something I wasn't really paying attention to what the doctors said. Also they still hadn't found anything for my crotch problem.

I went for walks in the sun, watching the men as they drilled and trained. I would have liked to leave the barracks and go see my mates at the camp outside the capital but doctors told me otherwise. Voidships flew in and out of the spaceport, coming in full of guardsmen, equipment and supplies and leaving empty. The newspapers and radio broadcasts said that fighting still went back and forth across the desert with neither side making any significant ground. Soon I could walk without a cane, and was told I would be put back into service. I felt happy to trade my cot with a thin mattress for a bedroll in the sand. The day before I received a letter.

' _Dear Bruce Dowal_

 _I am the leader of the squad you have been_ _reassigned to in the 28th infantry regiment of the AIF. When you have fully recovered I wish to meet you in person. I hope you do get well soon so we can begin training at full_ _strength_ _. Your new designation is F platoon, Beta company of the 28th. May the Emperor be with you._

 _Sergeant Ashlee Piper.'_

She spelt my last name wrong.

The next day I was thrown out the door and another wounded man was given my unwashed bed. Still with a bandage around my waste with the hole in my uniform patched up. I placed on my slouch hat and walked my way back to camp. Life went on as usual for the planetary citizens, offering shouts from venders displaying exotic products. People moving too and from work, autocarriages and great beasts carrying large products through the streets. I didn't get much attention, the population was used to seeing uniformed guardsmen wondering the streets. I probably stood out because I wasn't in the red light district.

"Excuse me mister are you an imperial guardsmen?" A young boy was walking along side me, roughly eight years old and quite skinny. I stopped and looked down at him.

"Yes, I am." He stayed with me, looking up at me with a respectful awe across his face.

"Mum says that guardsmen are sent by the Emperor to purge all the xenos, heretics and mutants. I haven't seen any around here. Did you purge them all?" I felt a warming sense of pride at that sentence. Suddenly a hand grabbed the boy by his arm.

"There you are…Sorry if he bothered you sir." She was quite a good looking woman, wearing the traditional long robes of the population. Her eyes were really something to admire reminding me of the crystal blue oceans back on Arala.

"He wasn't ma'am, you two stay safe now." I responded as I tipped my hat and continued walking. I had a certain spring in my step after that, knowing at least I was thanked for my duty. Not just for having an income to spend of alcohol and prostitutes. Or medals that served as reminders to thoughts I didn't want.

The path to the camp past the ancient ruins was now more defined thanks to the compression of boots and tank treads. Looked like an actual road now. Meanwhile the sun was setting on the dunes in the far distance. The guardsmen camp outside the capital hadn't changed much, permanent structures were set up and a fence had been erected. After having to show my dog tags I was let in. The wooden signs amongst the rows of tents lead me on a confusing trip through rows of ill placed tents and dunes. I arrived at a set of tents of F platoon Beta Company. A man was sleeping on a chair nearby, with a smell of cheap booze coming of him. His tunic was open and he was decorated twice, one being the Alfada medal. The other was the cannonade breachman's medal. Awarded for the destruction an active artillery battery. As soon as I went near him he jolted upright.

"You…youBruceDuwal? He pointed at me, his speech slurred and I could now see the half buried brown bottle in the ground near him.

"Yes." I stated. He sluggishly turned around and wandered into a nearby tent. I could here rustling noises and he came out with two more bottles, he handed one to me.

"HA…Name's Brodie Cohen mate, but I prefer the name Bazz. Weapon specialist and proud wielder of a roaster." He forcefully my hand, I also realised that the camp was relatively empty. Roaster was a slang term for flamers, as they roast the enemy.

"Where is everyone?" By now Bazz had skulled half the bottle, alcohol was only allowed in camp if it stayed in the mess and would be not allowed anywhere else. But who said the rules were followed.

"Oh yeah, lieutenant left me to wait for you. The others will be back any second now." He was unconsciously leaning to the right. I caught him and supported him. He hung off me as he downed more of his alcohol.

"You see the hoity toity bastards in charge didn't want us to drink too late so they changed the off duty times from five to six. This now means you only have an hour to get pissed. That ain't fair is it? Five o'clock swill we've referred to it as." I helped him to the chair and placed him back down. I took off the bottle cap and looked down the neck. Looked good enough. I took a swig and immediately regretted it. It felt like a rat was clawing its way down my throat and lit a bonfire in my stomach. I choked and spluttered.

"Yeah that's actually a home brew, you see they only said you can't bring grog onto the camp. They said nothing about making it here. My father worked as a brewer." I began spurting it back up and had a coughing fit, trying to breath again.

"Well, me and my brother had to improvise with the local grain, which is feels a bit rough. Has a bit of bite to it and needs an acquired taste." After I could breath again, it had a sweet after taste, which I could feel when air touched the insides of my mouth and throat.

"I see…you can have the rest." I handed him back the bottle, which he took a swig and began to have a chocking fit similar to me. However he recovered quicker and began drinking it again. His face lit up as he looked past me.

"Ah here's our lot back now." He pointed towards the gate with it being flooded with guardsmen with unbuttoned uniforms, badly buckled pants and tilted slouch hats. With the smell of alcohol getting even thicker than before. Amongst the lot heading over to Bazz and I there were my mates.

"Back from the dead I see." Lance slurred as he took my hand and violently shook it while trying to maintain his balance. The bruise marks on his neck and face indicating he had been at one of the whore houses. Liam and Jackson also welcomed me with pats on the shoulder and verbal greetings. There were a lot of unfamiliar faces now, seeing the only originals were Liam, Lance and Jackson and I. All of them had the Alfada medal, so all of them had seen some frontline action. One strange thing about this unit was that it was gender mixed with some woman amongst the men. They did have to sleep in a fenced off section of the camp. The rough proportion was one woman among eight or so men.

"So you must be Bruce Duwal then?" A woman in her early thirties said, she had sergeant stripes and her black hair tied into a bun. A typical hairstyle enforced as so it didn't hang loose. Long hair was prohibited because it could be grabbed or get in the way of the eyes.

"Yes sergeant!" I said as I gave her a salute, she laughed and pushed my hand down going past me.

"Good, well get yourself a tent I'm sure one of the dicks can help you with that." I looked back at her, next to her was a woman with a scar starting at the edge of her lip and traveling up her face.

"Names Lance Corporal Amy Fernard, nice to meet you." She was quite professional in her greeting giving me a brisk salute which I returned, she followed sergeant Piper as they headed away from the others.

"You're the new guy right?" A tall burly man stated, late twenties with a large bushy moustache and tanned skin. His shirt was hanging open showing his defined body, with his pants rolled up above his knees. He draped his arm over my shoulder and his face was quite close to mine, I received a lot of his alcoholic breath. I was struggling to hold up the bulk of his body.

"Yes I am corporal." I said, he threw his large arm off me and held out his hand, stumbling slightly while doing so. I saw the two stripes on his arm indicating his rank as a Corporal.

"Names Corporal Lance Hardwood, well you can call me Hardwood…Or Lance…Or Corporal. I'm an autocannon shooter, my loader's George Looker, that's him over there." I tried not to laugh at his last name, he left into one of the tents. He pointed at a man in his early twenties who actually looked sober. He gave a timid wave back. Another voice rose up as it came towards me.

"Good evening." A man wearing thick metal-framed glasses with a medical symbol on his arm stated coldly, without any other words he sat down and carefully began going through a neat medic pack.

"My name's Melivn Kull and I'm the squad's medic, I'll try and save you but I won't make promises." His voice was monotone and sharp, he took out a scalpel and began to grind it on a sharpening stone. Seeming to only focus on said medical instruments. Another guardsmen approached.

"G'day, names Barry Cohen, also known as Barra. I guess you met my older brother?" He was uncannily close looking to his brother, the only difference being a Bazz was a few centimeters taller.

"Try not to poison anyone ok." I responded, he laughed loudly and I could hear his brother joining in a from behind.

"Yeah, just drink the stuff we tell you to drink ok." He patted me on my shoulder and walked off, and joined the others at camp. It was rest time now, time when we had to stay on camp and just do what we wanted to. I took to the firing range, grabbing a lasgun and training myself. I took a shot hitting the torso of the wooden target at the 100-meter mark. I went for the head, and shot again, taking a chunk out of the wooden human figure. Suddenly a solid bullet hit the left side of the target's neck. One second past and another round hit it on the right side of the neck. The third bullet hit it right in the centre of the two holes, knocking the wooden head off the body. Looking around I saw a ratling woman standing on a set of boxes holding a smoking sniper rifle.

"You mind?" I asked. She only took a glance back at me before pulling back the bolt of her rifle and sliding in rounds one at a time.

"As if you were doing a good job at it. I've seen orks with better accuracy than that." She said with a clear kiwi accent, I walked up to her and ripped the rifle out of her hand. She protested desperately reaching for it, I held it just out of her small brown hands.

"I'm sorry I can't hear you down there." I joked back, she jumped a couple of times trying to grab the rifle before looking directly in my eyes and grumpily frowned and sternly stated.

"Guess what fuck face my height is perfect for this." I probably should have foreseen this but she bunched her fingers into a fist and threw it. Right bellow the belt. The pain hit slowly and gradually, causing me to hold my balls in agony dropping her rifle while doing so.

"THATS WHAT YOU GET FOR DISSING MY HEIGHT MOTHERFUCKER!" She yelled at me while pulling me down by my collar. She let go of me and picked up her rifle. After that she adjusted her webbing and went back to the boxes. I caught a glimpse of her regimental emblem and saw it was familiar.

"You apart of the…28th too?" I heaved and groaned every word out, ratlings aren't that strong, their muscles weren't big and they didn't have much to build on. But the pain she caused beat the lasgun round through my stomach.

"Yeah, names Maia Topia. Ratling sniper attached to the 28th, I'm not part of a squad right now." She explained and raised her rifle, firing off more rounds into the range.

"See you around then." I managed to walk properly and went off back to camp, the rest of the night was a mixture of gambling and listening to the radio. Lights out came around meaning we had to go to bed for the night. Before I laid back on my bedroll, I heard Corporal Hardwood move to a box and handed me a set of new regiment colour patches to stitch onto my uniform. His moustache curved up with his smile.

"Welcome to the 28th."

* * *

 **AN**

 **Just to let you all know if you are interested in mystery, Pokémon and crime I have a new story started known as 204 Papa Mike** **up. Apart from that I am a review addict and would like any feedback. Thank you.**


	25. I'm Fine

**The chapters are getting longer and I am happy with the result. I intend to get to chapter 30 by the end of the year.**

* * *

I'm fine

Crack of dawn and we were running through the desert. One thing I could tell was how my fitness had declined significantly. Also there was still a dull pain coming from the wound. I was at the back of the group of runners.

"SHE KILLS HERETICS WITH A BLINDING LIGHT!" We were singing a running cadence, something that we did back at basic training.

"AND KEEPS ME WARM IN THE WINTER NIGHTS! " The NCO's told us not to bother getting dressed. Meaning we were exercising in underpants, boots, socks, slouch hat and that's about it.

"SHE IS HARDY, SHE IS MEAN!" For these exercises they were gender split, so I was running with all the other men of Beta Company.

"SHE'S THE BEST WIFE THERE'S EVER BEEN!" Some men were still recovering from their hangovers, which I was thankful that I didn't have. Anyone who dropped behind got yelled at and kicked by officers and NCO's if they stopped.

"SHE'S THE APPLE IN MY EYE!" This particular song was ancient and applied to all regiments of the Imperial Guard. Infantry regiments especially.

"SHE'LL BE BY MY SIDE WHEN I DIE!" The sun glowed an orange as it rose to light up the dunes, the air was cooler than usual which made for perfect jogging weather.

"SHE AIN'T NO WOMAN, SON" We got curios looks from some of the natives, wondering what's that horde of men in their skivvies doing running around singing about women. But the song wasn't about women or having a wife. It was about something more relevant to our duty.

"SHE IS MY LASGUN!" This did emphasise that during the siege of Alfada my lasgun followed me everywhere. It was always within arms reach. We went on romantic patrols in the sand together. We ate together, helped each other out and I did cuddle my lasgun when sleeping. In reality a guardsman's lasgun was like a loyal wife.

Training featured more drills, marching, PT and maintaining proper health and practice. Food was not just the bully beef and biscuits, being offloaded from the ships. It was similar to the stew we had received on the vessels with weird and flat bread. It was mixed in with local spices and herbs. One thing however I did do was check my finances. Guardsmen get payed daily, however I have not spent any money since my last time in the capital. Even if I had most of it sent home I would still have more than enough to do many things. One of those was buy my family some souvenirs. I'm thinking a nice rug for mum and, maybe a statue or something for Darryl. For Dad maybe a mug or beer glass, maybe a beard comb. When we got our hour of free time I took my spare earnings and wandered into the capital.

Many headed to the red light district, as usual. Everyone exempt Jackson who was still waiting for his girlfriend to return from the fighting. She was one of the few that were still positioned in Alfada. He instead came to accompany me on this spending trip. Jackson never sent any wage home, he had quite a lot on him too. Another person who didn't head to the red light district was Corporal Hardwood. He stated he had other things to do. None of which he described in detail.

"Just saying, see that restaurant over there? Great place. We all went out there one night. Not too pricy and didn't give us the shits." Jackson pointed out a middle class restaurant, as we were strolling through the streets of a commercial district.

"I'm not going there alone am I?" I replied, Jackson stroked his forming moustache and smiled, placing an arm around my shoulder.

"Get yourself a girlfriend then." I laughed in response as we walked past the restaurant, Jackson followed with a chuckle.

"Come on mate, I bet there's got to be some ladies around here who would love to date an off worlder, war hero like yourself. Hell I heard Liam got himself a nice woman." Yes, who wouldn't love a scruffy man covered in scars, flaking bits of sunburnt skin and has an unidentifiable STD. My medals also didn't mean much when lots of other guardsmen had them.

"No thank you I'm fine." After some haggling and yelling I managed to get a rug for a good price. Had elaborate patterns full of gold and red weaving, also had various animal and Imperial iconography. For Darryl's I got a rock sculpture, being a miniature version to the large skull faced statues near the xenos structures. I hoped Darryl's present would arrive before he left for the guard. I was beginning to have doubts on whether Darryl should join the Imperial Guard. So he would not see what I have seen to, or feel what I had felt. But I couldn't stop him. For dad I bought a fancy lighter similar to the one Ruru had when I first found him. I sent a letter with the presents.

' _Dear Family_

 _Recovered from my wound just fine, now back to the action. We have been moved out of Alfada and I've been redeployed to the 28th regiment. The censors will probably get rid of this but the 11th is no more. The remaining 11th has been merged into the 28th, good seeing the 28th was also formed from people in Mooro. Our new squad is a bit of a weird one, but all seem well. Our late sergeant and Zhixen are no more. I hope you enjoy your gifts. I hope to speak to you soon._

 _Love Bruce'_

Off they went with me hoping they won't get stuck in the mail along the way. Jackson didn't buy anything. He just wanted to come for the walkabout.

When I did have time I entered the red light district, soaking in the thick scent of alcohol and offers by women of various levels of allure. The biggest problem with the red light district was that it was full of guardsmen. Praetorians, Aralans, Drookian Fen Guard, Tallarns and other regiments I couldn't name. All wondering around trying to either get pissed or find an affordable whore. Even though I had been here before it felt different. It felt off.

Every prostitute I laid eyes upon didn't move me in the slightest. I remember when I would have found this all too exiting. I would be like an ork in a rubbish tip. But now I didn't feel anything. When I did visit a pub all I could taste was the bad beer. Tasted as bad as last time, nothing like swan lager. Ciggies still calmed me down at least. But women did not move me.

I remember the platoon was sitting in one of these bars where the waiters didn't go around in much clothing. It also doubled as a brothel. The air was filled with drunken laughter, brash talking and general happiness. It was deep with the smell of alcohol and what I could only guess was body odour. The room was dimly lit, which I presumed was to hide the flaking walls. I watched as guardsmen went around groggily singing, the lieutenant had bought a shout for everyone. I hadn't even finished my first glass of grog. Lance was to my right, sitting next to me with a prostitute in his lap. Unconsciously nudging me, spilling the top of the alcohol onto my fingers. To my left was Liam, who was concentrating on the game of cards before us. I hadn't even touched my cards. No one was taking it too seriously. They probably skipped my turn.

"Oi Bruce it's your turn!" I could hear Bazz yell from across the table. He was dealing. I wiped my beer stained hand on Liam's tunic, he jovially pushed me away. I checked my cards.

"I fold!" I didn't really care but was met with an uproar of excitement as guardsmen focused on who would win the prized pile of cash in the centre. I scooted out of my wooden chair and went outside as my body craved for a smoke. The pub owner didn't allow smoking, I felt the rule was stupid but I didn't want to get yelled at. I weaved my way out of the pub filled with mostly guardsmen, who were doing the same as our mob. The sun was still up, and I was hit with the low heat. I reached for my shirt pocket and took out a pack, pushing out a ciggie. It was one of the official lho-sticks, had a more promethium after taste to them. I swore as the leaves immediately fell out, leaving me with an empty paper roll. I went for another.

"Hello handsome." The voice was all too familiar. My blood ran cold and felt my breath quicken. I dropped the packet and instinctively went for my bayonet. When the realisation of feeling my plain tunic came I further panicked. Realising I was unarmed and seeing the womanly figure approaching. I ran. Bursting through the curtains of the pub doorway. I sped back to the table and resumed my seat.

"You good there mate? You look like you've seen a ghost." Lance asked pushing the prostitute away from him and focused on me.

"Yeah I'm fine." I took a long sip of grog. I proved myself wrong when I could feel a hand on my shoulder. I jolted in my seat spilling the glass contents over the table. I turned ready to fight only to see an equally frightened woman looking at me. She was definitely a prostitute based on her clothing. She was also one of the most beautiful women I had laid eyes upon. Even more beautiful than that strange creature/s back in Alfada. But that didn't calm me down in the slightest. It made my heart race faster with a mixture of fear and infatuation.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you mister, but you dropped this." She held out my lho-stick packet. By now the table had gone silent and were looking in my direction.

"Th-Thank you ma'am." I said as I took the smokes off her. I turned away and looked back my fellow guardsmen. I took a gulp of grog, I heard a pair of rough hands connect.

"It's your turn Mike." Bazz broke the silence with a smile, everyone got back on track with the game. The prize of everyone's money still on the line. Now sporting a few dabs of bad alcohol. I had already lost and I didn't mind the donation. Lance still looked at me puzzled. He placed a hand on my shoulder.

"You're sure mate? You can talk to me." I pushed his hand away and downed the small amount of liquid left in my glass.

"I am fine." I repeated, as I said that I looked at that woman again. She had a very nice hourglass figure with wide and smoothly swaying hips, but my eyes focused on something. My head darted back to the centre of the table. I tried to deny what I just saw. I looked down at the packet in my hand. What if she did something to them? I turned back to see she was gone. I wanted to deny it as my imagination but my eyes convinced me. I swore that a fleshy appendage was coming out of her short dress. Looking like a purplish, pointed tail. I didn't move from that table again that night. Lance thought something was wrong with me. But I couldn't deny what I saw. I didn't feel safe in my bed. I kept a knife at my bedside. Even if I didn't see anything out of the ordinary I still had a feeling. Something eating away at the back of my mind.

Several weeks past, newspapers were still issued with a Guardsmen postal service orientated for each regiment. However when it got issued one day, no one expected this.

* * *

~THE FALL OF FEIJIE~

Six months ago Tau Military forces engaged with the Imperial Navy and Guard stationed on the fortress moon of Feijie. Despite great military effort and valiant fighting by the various Imperial forces it was without victory. After the twelve days of brutal combat, both in orbit and on the moon's crust, the Imperial forces broke. While many were killed it is known that many more were captured and will be subject to brutal hardship under the Xenos. Numbers are unclear at this stage but it has been confirmed that some managed to escape. Feijie as one of the main fortresses in the sector, there is only one line of defence left between the Tau Empire and Arala. The small jungle moon of Muana II. It has been decided that Planetary Defence Force and remaining Navy assets will be redeployed. Negotiations with system commanders and Planetary Governor Drapes of Arala are ongoing. But while the AIF remains on Shamal, there can only be so much in the defence of Arala. May the Emperor protect those brave men and women.

* * *

This article caused much panic amongst all of us. One of which was Lance whom scribbled a letter home to try and see if his brother was one of the ones that escaped. The other factor was how late this was. Six months and we hadn't heard anything from home. Six months and we had not been told of fighting near to home. Six months of ignorance of fellow Aralans fighting xenos with their filthy feet on the doorstep to home. We didn't take it well. I also rapidly sent a letter to know how my family was doing. But then begging started. We demanded the AIF be sent home to help with the fighting now. When commanders paid no attention it grew into protests. I joined in with most of the AIF. Picketing in large mobs outside the guard HQ. Flooding their mailboxes with letters and doing other more subtle protests. This included misbehaving on parades and wearing uniforms in a non-regulation manner. Highly disciplined guardsmen including Mordians and Praetorians scoffed at us for being this rowdy. But we returned with patriotic lip and anger. This resulted in several brawls. A couple of which I was involved in. Our efforts were helped by planetary Govenor Drapes who encouraged our demands for AIF members to come home. Eventually our commanders buckled before us. It came in a news article.

* * *

~AIF GOING HOME~

After much protest, demanding, negotiation and time. It has now been confirmed that the AIF will officially be withdrawn from Shamal in order to defend Arala. The new plan is to have AIF regiments slowly withdrawn from fighting. To be sent to the moon of Muana II to fight the Tau threat. However, compromises have been made, it has been stated that some regiments will be staying longer than others. Fresher soldiers will be going before veteran units. It has been reported that the fighting on Muana II has been brutal and desperate. The jungle makes for close quarters firefights. Tanks are useless and artillery is difficult to move in the mountainous terrain. Aralan PDF units have been in a constant fighting withdrawal. Counter attacks have been planned. Catachan jungle fighters have also been deployed to help in the fighting of the Tau and their kroot allies. For now may the Emperor bless all guardsmen in the defence of the Imperium and Arala.

* * *

This was met with a warmer reaction. But this also meant the 28th was going to be one of the last to go. We were a veteran unit after all, over two and a half years of service as of now. Eventually I got two letters.

 _'Dear Bruce_

 _We received the news too. It has shocked us all. Preparations are being made as of now. Trenches have been dug and bomb shelters have been set up to prepare for a possible invasion. Many look up at Muana II at night and realise we can see the fighting. They can see us from there. Also I have signed up for the guard. Mum and Dad have given me the best of luck as I start basic training tomorrow. Mum's PDF unit has no plans to be deployed to Muana II, but that might not last. I hope you and your mates are doing well. Maybe I will see you soon._

 _From Darryl_

 _P.S We thank you for the presents, mum hopes they weren't too expensive'_

The other letter was also important.

 _'Hey Bruce_

 _Just got out of basic training. While I'm much older than most of the people signing up I managed to pull through. I've been assigned to infantry. My daughter and wife are fair dinkum. Both proud of me, makes me warm inside. Another important piece of news was that Eli has been sent to Muana II as a sergeant in the PDF. Left his oldest son in charge of The Tap while he's gone. I hope you are doing all right. I'm being shipped off soon. May the Emperor protect you all._

 _From Sebastian'_

I felt proud for the both of them. Withdrawals of men also meant that even more guardsmen from other planets were being offloaded as replacement. Fresh and pale faces amongst the rough and dry that was us. Easy to spot amongst veterans.

One day we were sitting around camp, doing weapon maintenance. Mumbling prayers to the machine spirits of our tools of the Emperor's wrath. Bazz's flamer looked to be not standard issue. He said how he picked it off a heretic, scratched off the spiky stars. Carved in the Aquila and after fixing a leak or two now uses it himself. Corporal Hardwood's autocannon was covered in tally marks, he stated how he even used it to crack an ork's head open like a nut. Or how he can if he really needs to fire it without his tripod, just a sling over his shoulder. However looking at his muscular arms I believed him. Sergeant Piper was wielding a power fist, one that she claimed to have been issued. Lance Corporal Fernard chipped in saying how she probably had to have sex with the quartermaster to get it gave us all a laugh. Piper hit her across the back of the head. The vox caster was playing music. It was a typical day as guardsmen.

"URGENT NEWS…URGENT NEWS…ALL GUARDSMEN LISTEN UP!" We stopped our mumbling, now doubt pissing off the machine spirits. Lance reached forward and turned up the volume.

"Guardsmen from all over the Imperium of man. As your commanding officer, Lord General Militant Python, I regret to inform you that the Space Port of Alfada, was lost to the enemy several hours ago." It took time for our brains to register the information. The rest of the broadcast was rambling about how we will recover, swamped in a mixture of emotions. The fact we had held that port for nearly eight months for nothing. We did what we did before. Demanded that we get back out there and that we fight. We wished to end the fighting now so the AIF can be sent home sooner. Meanwhile Jackson was acting miserable at the idea his girlfriend might be dead. The look on his face was of utter joy when he saw the female company approaching the camp. We wade into them frantically searching for her. He returned with a blank gaze and poker face.

Jackson came back and silently sat down, his face not saying anything good. He didn't need to say anything to know what he had heard. The day went on as usual, doing drills and exercises. Jackson remained quieter than usual, not saying anything to anyone. His lips curled down and his eyes never fixing on anything. However it was late in the day, after a firing drill as we were putting lasguns back into the armoury. I spoke up.

"Where's Jackson?" He had been with us, still quiet but I didn't observe his dour face amongst the guardsmen. After looking around the area we began questioning.

"He was with us at the firing range." Lance stated, again we began asking around the rest of the platoon. Piper, Hardwood, Looker, Kull, Fernard and the Cohen brothers hadn't noticed. We asked the rest of the platoon, they also had no clue.

"He has been acting strange since his girlfriend died. He just slipped off without telling us…and he has a live and loaded lasgun…By the Emperor" Liam exclaimed in growing quiet and horrid realisation. It didn't take a genius for us to realise the very possibility that Jackson was about to take his own life. Hardwood's voice rumbled.

"Well, what are we waiting for? We need to find him!" We did not heed the officers protests as the men and women of the platoon moved out of the dunes looking for Jackson. It was a race against time. We were all too afraid of knowing where he was when we heard the crack of a lasgun. I was looking at the ground in hope of finding some bootprints in the sand. The only problem being it was amongst hundreds of other prints. Eventually Liam again proved himself to be a bit of a detective when he found a bottle.

"Dhahab Hlu…I'm guessing it's Jackson's." The bottle was normal and was a brand of local strong spirit alcohol, we were south of the camp, the opposite direction of the city.

"Anyone could be out here drinking at this time." Lance responded, it wasn't unknown for men to sneak out of camp in order to take a drink out of sight. Only returning after the deed was done. Liam shook his head.

"No, no Jackson only seemed to drink this brand, he probably needs some liquid courage…He's around here somewhere." The area was very rough with waves of dunes, perfect amount of craters for someone to hide in with a lasgun pointed at their own head.

Again search patterns continued, with us spreading out in a line chanting Jackson's name in desperation. Lasguns aren't that loud, and the likely hood of finding his corpse grew with each step into the soft sand.

I reminisced how I enlisted in the guard with a total of seven mates. That was down to just three. Four if Ross is still alive but, even if we didn't discuss it, we had already assumed the worst. I didn't want to make it two. As the sun began to set and the cool of the night settled on the sands, I heard something. A faint noise being carried by the wind. Without word I broke into that direction, scrambling over a sand dune and seeing a crumpled figure ten metres before me. He didn't notice me, the noise of my rugged breath being covered by his own sobs. Jackson was sitting with the lasgun being pointed towards his own face, his finger already on the trigger.

"Jackson?" His head shot up, while his slouch hat had covered his face before I now got a clear view of him.

"Go away Bruce." His voice croaked with dryness and attempting to talk through drunk sobs. His face was moist with tears and snot dribbling down his forming moustache, more tears appeared in his eyes. He looked away.

"Jackson, please." I took a step forward and stopped when he shifted the lasgun in my direction.

"Please…go away Bruce!" He sniffled as his sunburnt nose continued to excrete snot and mucus. He swiped his burned red forearm across his face. I heard boots and looked behind to the view of others joining me. Lance and Liam stood beside me.

"Jackson don't do this." Liam stated, Jackson stood up, continuing to point the lasgun in our direction.

"Why not Liam? Why not? She was only person who loved me for who I am. My parents are dead to me…Adriano's dead…Ross's dead…The Li brother's are dead…Sergeant Wesly's dead…All died protecting a fort WE LOST…Now's she's dead. So…why?…Why not?" Jackson spluttered out the last phrase, as fresh tears appeared on his rough cheeks.

"Because how will this make it better. What will killing yourself do? She wouldn't want you to do this. She would want you to keep going." Liam took a step forward, Jackson focused the barrel of the lasgun on Liam's chest. Liam was undeterred.

"We need you Jackson. The Imperium needs you. Arala needs you. All your doing is wasting a good man and a lasgun charge." Liam continued as we walked forward, his hands unthreateningly in the air. Jackson's sniffles got louder as the streams of tears on his face grew in intensity. His arms and knees trembled.

"Come now Jackson, put it down." Liam slowly reached and took the barrel of the lasgun, slowly pushing it down. Until it aimed at the sand. With a loud snort, Jackson dropped the lasgun and wrapped his arms around Liam. The sound of crying pierced the gusts of the desert wind as Jackson loudly sobbed into Liam's shoulder.

"She's dead mate…Fucking dead!" He repeated as Liam stood tall as Jackson saturated Liam's shoulder with a mixture of mucus and alcohol scented tears. The hug was brotherly with Liam's hand patting against Jackson's flak armour. After the event I congratulated Liam on what he did, being the sole reason Jackson was still alive. Jackson returned and while we got lip for being late it was for a good cause.

We kept an eye on Jackson, and while he still remained quiet he eventually would crack a smile. We spotted Ruru being chased by several Praetorian officers, calling the ratling a 'Gannet sod' and a 'airy-fairy thief'. When he turned a corner we hid him in one of our tents, the officers went past being non the wiser. The kiwi gave us a lho-stick each as thanks. When Jackson was given his, a slight smile appeared on his cracked lips.

"Thank's bros, see you lot around." Ruru yelled as he ran off into the camp, no doubt to share his loot. It brought a smile to my face too.

We are a band of brothers after all.

Several days after the incident involving Jackson we got marched out into the desert to start building defences in the dunes. Like the holes of Alfada but even more elaborate. Several layers of trenches and tunnels. Pits and bundles of barbed wire. Tank traps and barricades. All stuff we were very familiar with, didn't take us long at all. Exempt that this defence line stretched for kilometres across the sands, with a much larger force having to build and man it. But we did it. Especially with the 'make it better' attitude that Rouche ingrained into us. We did what we had done before. Sat in those holes to hurry up and wait.

Orders did come down the chain of command. We would be engaging the enemy in several days. We were both scared and exited, this would either make or break the rest of the campaign. Having several days to prepare. This is when bored guardsmen tend to experiment. In this case we tried something involving a grenade, helmet and a piece of string. This was an 'in the moment' idea. It involves taking a helmet (We stole a Praetorian one for shit talking the AIF). Attaching a grenade inside it and wrapping a string around the grenade pin. It would be placed in the ground with the top of the helmet and string poking out. In theory the helmet would angle the blast down so a hole was formed. Thus instant foxhole. In practice it worked to some degree. However they weighted a lot and were impractical so we didn't bother mass-producing them. Entrenching tools and shovels did the job just fine.

Something we could make (even if it was illegal) was a tin grenade. Lance remembered his uncle recalling this tactic in the first AIF. Very simply, get a large and small tin. Fill the small tin with gunpowder, much of which was supplied by Ruru's mob. Place it in the bigger tin and fill the big tin with ball bearings, scrap metal and coins (anything small and metal will do). Drill a hole in the top, use a small piece of piping and string as a fuse. It can either be lit with a ciggie or friction causing a spark. We stockpiled them, I had about four of them alongside my two standard issue frag grenades. We managed to collect up more ammo, using modified enemy charge packs.

We also tried to modify our armour by welding scrap metal onto it. We gave up as it would cause uniform violations and also made flak armour even heavier than it was. Our E-tools and bayonets were sharpened. Lasguns cleaned and maintenance performed on our armour. When the day came we were made to march back to the capital's spaceport. We also had to watch as another load of AIF guardsmen were placed on a different transport vessel destined for Muana II. Lucky or unlucky bastards depending on who you asked. We got loaded onto troop carrier voidships and taken into orbit. Then it was waiting around in the cargo bay in our platoons waiting for orders. We weren't told anything, not unusual that NCO's and privates were always the last to receive orders. We were at the very bottom of the command structure. Done so the enemy doesn't know what's going on until it happens. But once we spotted the Tetrarch heavy landers.

We knew that this next battle involved an assault on a planetary level.

 **AN**

 **I am thinking of taking away Author's Notes all together, I'm starting to view them as unnecessary rambling. I would still like reviews please.**


	26. The Crescent Offensive

The Crescent Offensive

The last time I had touched a gas mask was back at basic training. Even three years later, I would remember the instructions Corporal Dick managed to drill into my head. Put on face, check the straps are tight and then make sure the rubber mouthpiece covers the whole mouth. Twist the filter to make sure it is screwed on tight. Then blow into the mask hard. If it makes a noise similar to a fart as the air rushes out the side of the mask then there are no leaks. I say all of this in the wake of how onboard the vessels we were suddenly issued gas masks. This sparked more interest in what we were doing exactly. I don't think we could go into space with just a gas mask.

"Well we're doing an assault of some kind, what are the masks needed for?" Lance asked. Currently we were sitting around the cargo bay, the eight Tetrarch heavy landers still empty. The ship had left port several hours ago and now we were waiting to be briefed in some fashion. I also reminisced on what happened back at that pub in the capital. Now questioning if what I saw was real. I placed a lit lho-stick in my mouth and took another drag. Followed by a scratch of my inflamed crotch. I wasn't the only one smoking before battle. The smell of several other AIF regiment's burning leaves filled the hull. Eventually the captain of Beta Company walked into the middle of our unit.

"Beta Company! Gather round, we just received orders." We shifted on our bums across the cold plasteel until we gathered in a large crowd around the officer. Looking up to him like a class would look up at their teacher.

"Guardsmen of Beta Company, 28th Regiment of Arala. We are about to do a planetary assault on a heavily defended area in the heretic lines. This assault will be following a navy and ground artillery barrage, and followed up by an advance. The ground we are landing on is flat with orbital photos showing similar conditions to the surrounding area of Alfada. This area had also got a large concentration of enemy trenches, fortifications, bunkers and unholy shrines. However the combined artillery effort will most likely, heavily terraform the area. Making it uneven with craters and its structures in ruins. When we land, our job is to secure the area and set up defences against a possible counter attack. Then we advance into enemy territory. You will be amongst hundreds of thousands of fellow guardsmen in an attack that will break the enemy. We will not stop until every damn heretic, mutant and xenos is either squashed under tank treads! Cooked in a holy bath of lasgun rounds! OR WRITHING IN A POOL OF BLOOD! IS THAT CLEAR GUARDSMEN?" He barked out the last sentence in typical officer fashion, we responded with an automatic and hearty effort from prior experience and determination.

"SIR YES SIR!" The captain nodded and his moustache curved into a smile as he looked around the surrounding guardsmen.

"Good! Very good. Assault's in five minutes, get on those landers!" We were herded along to the landers with voidsmen waving and ordering where to go. We went up a ramp and into the bowels of a Tetrarch lander. Then climbed up stairs into rows upon rows of over a thousand cramped seats. Squished in amongst each other with our flak armour pauldron's scraping. As I slid my lasgun into its slot I started buckling on my seatbelt. I could also hear Sergeant Piper yelling over the sound of clattering gear and boots hitting plasteel.

"Make sure you put your seat belts on properly! Only takes one wrong jolt and you will be a head and a body!" What I assumed she was saying was that our necks will snap, hearing that I double-checked to put it on tightly.

To my right was Lance, having the vox caster tucked under his seat ready to be put on after landing. To my left was Liam who was trying to fit his grenade launcher in the pocket with effort. Next to him was Jackson, looking into the void with unmoving eyes. No doubt the poor bastard's still having his missus on his mind. Across the aisle the Cohen brothers did a cheers with their water bottles, which I could tell they had filled with their barracks-brew alcohol. Kull fixed his glasses and looked around in his standard quiet sneer, tightly holding the strap of his medic bag. He also looked annoyed at the fact Looker was moving into his seat. A by product of Corporal Hardwood's bulk pushing against Looker. The corporal himself discussed something with Looker, which I could barely hear. Lance Corporal Fernard was writing in what I could only guess was a journal or diary. Before tucking it into her webbing under her flak armour, she was also trying to ignore Hardwood's shoulder in her face. Sergeant Piper was fidgeting with her power fist, still making any last checks on her gear.

Over the helmeted heads I could spot the ratlings in their booster seats, Ruru was having a smoke and bight to eat with the others. Near them I could spot Maia Topia. Looking absolutely terrified as her brown eyes darted around the room as she played with her hands. Eventually she spotted me across the lander. Our eyes locked and we gave each other wave. I gave a thumbs up which she unsurely returned. I nodded with a smile, she did the same back, a small smile coming to her face.

"That your first girlfriend Bruce?" Lance said bumping my shoulder, I turned to him and jostled him back as he gave a light chuckle. The familiar growl of Leman Russ tank engines could be heard, the lander was going to be carrying them into combat too I guess.

"Shut the fuck up mate." I chuckled back. By now everyone was seated and we heard the lander's intercom whine to life as the metallic scraping and groaning of the ship's boarding ramp being raised. A scrambled voice could be heard

"Buckle in!" The voice was Aralan and probably a high up officer, maybe the colonel of the 28th himself. After making sure my helmet was on tight I checked my seat belt again, I didn't wish to die before combat. The voice was heard again.

"Last minute equipment check!" We went though our gear one last time, I could feel the extra grenades on my webbing. My backpack felt full and ready. I went over my lasgun seeing the charge pack's power node was clean and the safety was on. I made sure a pack of smokes was in my webbing.

"Squads sound off!" We did so reading out our rank and name as we had done after every training exercise and gathering required. Afterwards the sergeants raised their thumbs one by one as officers counted them off, then did the same.

"Recite the litany of combat!" The voice was softer, we raised our heads high with our shouts filling the hull of the lander.

"EMPEROR, BESTOW ON ME YOUR RIGHTEOUS FURY AND YOUR FURIOUS STRENGTH! LET ME BECOME THE STORM THAT BLASTS THE ENEMY FROM YOUR SIGHT!" With that we felt a growing rumble as the lander's gargantuan engines started up. With that I could see guardsmen making the sign of the Aquila on their chest. I followed suit in an act of fear of the uncertain.

A shuddering explosion sounded from outside the lander. We could only guess it was the voidship's macrocannons starting their orbital bombardment. The noise drowned out the rumble of the Tetrarch lander engines. The ship jerked as we were now in the air. The lander shuddering under gravity and weight of itself as it plummeted towards Shamal. I could feel the acidic taste of stomach bile growing in my throat as my stomach knotted and sloshed in my torso. Eventually I gave in and felt vomit force it's way out of my mouth. Looking around I wasn't the only one as other guardsmen disgorged their prior rations. The strange thing was how the vomit went up into the maze of pipes and rafters of the lander. Which gave an indication on what gravity was like at our altitude. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, noticing how it was oily and black, similar to what happened when Lance ate that fruitcake back at Alfada.

Before I could think harder about it the lander rocked, driving the seat straps into the flesh, surely leaving red marks under my uniform. I could see Bazz trying to crack a joke only for it to be drowned out over the sound of the engines. I didn't hear a single word. An explosion was heard outside the lander as it jutted again.

"LANDING IN T-MINUS 60 SECONDS!" A foreign voice crackled through the intercom. Most likely the lander's pilot. A shrill whistling could be heard as we felt the lander make an even deeper decent towards the planet. Liam had his head low and was praying. Jackson was actually the calmest looking. His face had not changed from ever since he entered the lander. Still in deep thought, with hints of anger shining through his gruff features.

"LANDING IN T-MINUS 30 SECONDS!" As explosions vibrated through the plasteel of the lander. I guessed they were surface to air rockets and gunfire. I didn't know if we had fighter support or not. The pilot's voice could be heard again.

LANDING IN T-MINUS 10 SECONDS! PREPARE TO DON YOUR GAS MASK AND EVACUATE THE LANDER!" This was it, again being thrown straight into combat against the enemies of The Emperor. Meanwhile xenos are coming close to home on Muana II. I could already tell one of us wasn't coming back from this battle. That was only our squad. I guessed there would be many more dead men in these landers.

"5…4…3…2…1!" With a violent jerk the lander came to a halt, the straps cutting into my skin through my uniform, surely leaving blood. The lights flickered for a moment before returning to illuminate the terrified faces. But while they were terrified, they were ready.

"MASKS ON AND STAND UP!" Placing my helmet between my legs I strapped on the gasmask. The smell of bleach and rubber invaded my nostrils as I adjusted the straps. When it was on I placed my helmet on and stood up. The reason for gas masks was still not answered. Afterwards I grabbed my lasgun and flipped off the safety. Other guardsmen did the same, specialist roles like Lance needing help to put on their unique gear. I helped him with his vox caster.

"MOVE UP TO THE RAMP!" As we filed out between the rows of seats one guardsman could be seen with his neck bent at sickening angle. Neck broken due to their seat belt whipping back, I tried my best to ignore the blank eyes and slightly ajar mouth of the poor man. When we stood in the landing bay the thunder of guns could still be heard. The revving of the tank engines drowning out most noise in the hull. Some coming from off the lander while others came from outside.

"FIX BAYONETS! CLEAR THE LZ, DIG IN AND WAIT FOR ODERS!" I could see an officer yelling through a vox caster's megaphone near the front of the regiment. We followed orders, sliding on bayonets. Suddenly the lights dimmed and the metallic screeching racked our ears. The ramp steadily lowered revealing the field before us. As we advanced a unified battle cry went through the ranks.

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" We charged headlong towards the enemy alongside the metal bulk of Leman Russ'. Through smudged lenses I finally saw the area that would be the battlefield.

What we charged into was a hell scape of ruined defences amongst giant craters and black scorched sand dunes. Illuminated under the shiny crescent moon we saw the enemy in the forms of heretics. Hiding in what was left of their buldings, firing into our ranks. But we didn't stop our charge. Wallowing distorted screams overshadowed the sounds of roaring engines and advancing guardsmen. The area was thick with a sweet musk. Mixed with burning promethium, sizzling flesh and death. With my limited peripheral vision I could see one of the landers had crashed. Its engines alight and the flames moving towards the hull. Guardsmen filed out of the wreckage, people staying to help them while under heavy enemy fire. The sand we stood on wasn't desert yellow but varying in colour from reds, greens, yellows and blues. Every time I looked down I swear faces appeared in the sand, screaming in pain and pleasure as our boots stamped on them. Long iron spikes littered the dunes, decorated with defiled corpses, painted in blood and wrapped in skin. Some of the corpses still moving as if they and life in them.

At our lieutenants orders we progressed into a ruined tower. Decorated in corpses, we moved over heretic bodies that were painted over the smashed bricks. We also pulled the bodies from a dugout, which we had cleared with several grenades. Taking cover we returned fire with the crack of lasguns taking part in the horrific orchestra of battle. We could hear the landers clear the LZ. Their howling engines becoming distant as they soared like metal eagles into the clear nighttime sky. The enemy's lasgun rounds grew less distant as the fighting went on and on. Soon enough they were no more.

The fighting wasn't that fierce but the setting was more assaulting than any heretic I had faced in my guardsman service. While I had seen death and lunacy before this was new. The sky was a deep purple with strange colours permeating against the stars. Silhouettes of ships exchanging fire in orbit as aircraft engaged in dogfights. The noise was not of the whistling desert wind, but of screams. Followed by strange music like piping organs and daemonic trumpets. The ground itself moved on its own. I kept hearing a baby's cries coming from a rock near my position. Lying down in a small crater with Lance at my side and half of a heretic poking out of the sand with his horned, mutated head caved in. Staring out into destroyed remains of renegade positions, trenches, bunkers and forts that stood dead. In the distance artillery could be seen, firing into the atmosphere with giant guns still rumbling. I could also guess the gas mask was for the air with a deep and sweet aroma coming through the filter.

"SOUND OFF!" Sergeant Piper barked through her gasmask. One by one we shouted out our rank and name. Thankfully everyone in our squad had made it this far and was still intact.

Observing our unit I couldn't see anyone's emotions past the canvas, metal and glass of the masks, even the eyes were obscured. We had taken up our positions well and some were even filling up spare sandbags.

"Set up a perimeter then hurry up and wait." Orders were swiftly followed with bricks rapidly being pushed into place and clearing of the dugouts the enemy had made. Enemy corpses were also used to make the walls stronger. When we finished we sat in our new defences as we had done at Alfada. Suddenly my mouth had a bad taste, like ashes had suddenly formed on my tongue. I wasn't the only one as others make coughing noises. I decided to disobey orders and lift up my mask to wash my mouth out. It didn't work. I think Lance however summarised the situation the best. He let out an almost defeated sigh as he said it.

"What the fuck is happening?" The screeching died down as we waited for orders, but then we could see something in the distance. The ground moved in a seething tied of green as engines joined in their ranks and a deafening noise pushed through the sweet scented air.

"WAAAAAAAAAGH!" I raised my lasgun over the crude parapet, taking aim at the horde of thousands of greenskin xenos. While they had not appeared as much as they had at the start of the campaign they still had a presence. Muffled orders emerged from our lieutenant.

"Orks incoming, take up defensive positions. Only fire when I say so!" Heavy weapons had been erected on their tripods as Leman Russ tanks rolled into position. Meanwhile Lance kept up a constant stream of vox chatter, relaying a forward observer's coordinates for voidships and Basilisk's to bombard. Aiming down iron-sights was difficult with the mask on. Especially as the filter got in the way and the lens was protruding.

"Wait till you can see the reds of their eyes!" A familiar high-pitched whistling pierced the air as the ork horde erupted when artillery rounds struck the ground. The basilisks had rolled off the landers and earthshaker cannons ripped up the already scorched earth. The horde did not flinch and continued its brutal charge. Lascannon's targeted their ramshackle machines, which were belching toxic fumes from their filthy engines. The xenos had now covered considerable ground as we saw their muscular arms flaying crude weaponry as their stubby legs pounded into the dunes.

"FIRE!" With that order red beams flashed like a light show as the first rank of the barbarous greenskins collapsed. This followed with the pounding of autocannons, rumbling of heavy bolters and bombardment or mortars. Meanwhile battle cannons roared as Leman Russ' sat stationary forming bunkers in a wall of Imperial might.

As the orks got closer I could smell their putrid pong and see their yellowing teeth and tattered, poorly made clothing and armour in the limited moonlight. With every lasgun discharge it would give a split second glimpse into the savage horde. How many there were and how close they were getting. I saw an ork nob fly backwards and was then ripped apart into a crimson mist. I looked to see that Liam had fired his grenade launcher at point blank range into the ork's chest. The orks were about 10 metres from our lines as the flamers lit up. Fiery swathes of promethium carved their way into xenos. Their ranks thinned significantly and the order was given.

"CHARGE!" We counter charged with the greenskins hitting a hedge of bayonets and spinning chainswords. The melee was brutal but we were veterans, brutal was what we were used to. The orks brought down their choppas. Sprayed their crude firearms. We gave them point blank lasgun rounds with lunging jabs. Blocks and crunches as rifle butt met ork jaw.

I found myself up against an ork boy standing taller than me. Swinging down its choppa it hit the sand as I dodged to my left. I then raised my lasgun as the ork took another swing. The wooden chassis splintered but it held. I went for a stab before the ork caught the blade of the bayonet with his hand. The xenos beast seemed to ignore the fact the weapon had impaled his muscular palm and pulled his hand. Ripping my lasgun and bayonet from my grasp. The ork gave off a primitive roar as it came forward. Its crude axe raised again. Taking my e-tool from my webbing I charged the greenskin. Dashing under the blade of the axe I dug the e-tool into the xenos' soft guts. Using the ork as leverage I ripped the blade free, bringing forth a wave of red viscera torrenting from the ork's gut. Giving no chance for the ork to recover I raised the blade and took another swing. The blade carving a fractured path into the greenskin's thick skull. The ork's eyes stayed open as it went limp. With a swift kick my e-tool came free. Not taking a chance I took another hard swing. This time a meaty crushing noise vibrated up the handle of my e-tool. When I pulled the blade out another chunk of brain and bone was dug out. Like scooping out a watermelon. I scrambled for my lasgun, seeing a grot already picking at it. I kicked the ugly critter in its curved nose before finishing it with a stomp to the skull. Leaving it a pulp of blood and bone soaked into the sand.

By the time I picked up my lasgun the orks had began their retreat. Their fleeing was met with our effort to cut them down as they ran. Running as veteran guardsmen gunned them down. When the kicked up dust cleared, and the sun rose across the scorched dunes the carnage became clear. Vehicles smouldered and burned, parked in a sea of blood soaked sand and corpses. Bodies lay in mountainous piles, lying in the dunes like huge weeds in a garden of war. Some of the bodies were stacked like sandbags in the possibility of another attack. It never came. The sound of distant fighting could be heard as we rested our tired legs and bodies. They allowed us to temporarily remove our masks to take a quick gulp of water. Or a bight into dry and stale biscuits and salty bully beef. Our squad had survived this far. Lance had one of his visors cracked when an ork punched it. Kull had a slugga round hit him in the shoulder. The flak armour took the damage and he had self applied painkillers. Sergeant Piper's power fist was saturated in ork blood. She was using Lance Corporal Fernard's bayonet to pick bone fragments out of the knuckles. Corporal Hardwood's auto cannon glowed red-hot at the end of the barrel, to the point when he rested the gun on an ork corpse it sizzled the skin. Giving off a familiar burnt mushroom smell. Jackson had some shrapnel hit him in his hip, but he was not fazed. Even when Kull offered him painkillers he refused.

Dead guardsmen were given an informal burial in the sand in unmarked graves. Without servitors, volunteers shoveled the sand deep enough to count as a grave. After the body was then stripped of spare gear it was lowered in. The grave would be unmarked in order to hide the corpses from being defiled by heretics. Wounded were placed in waiting vehicles to be sent back to apothecarums. We also destroyed any iconography or signs of the heretic's blasphemies. Including the uprooting of their spiky star shaped crucifixes and detonation of their monuments to false gods. Everything was thrown into the pyres along with mutant and heretic corpses. Promethium was poured over the top, having been blessed by a ministorum priest and mixed with holy water. Then purged by the priest's holy fire in a monument of pure flame to the God-Emperor.

It was a beautiful sight to behold.

I turned away from the sight, still clutching my splintered lasgun as I stared out into the desert. The swirling mix of colour remained as the smell would deviate from sweetness to being more metallic. When the sun was now beating on our backs, flies came to feast on the corpses. When I watched an ork corpse move on its own I rapidly raised my lasgun. Ork's are tough and they don't go down easy. There had been many stories of orks being apparently dead for days only to jump up alive and well. But this one had its head missing.

"W-w-what the…" Lance said as he too, took aim at the body as it convulsed in the sand, then a putrid stench came through my gas mask filter as the neck of the ork was pried open from within. Crawling out of the body was an insect about the size of a dog. Covered in greenish grunge it shook itself off. It looked like a giant hairy fly. Before it took to the air it got caught in a streaming jet of promethium. The fly let loose a high pitch screech as it collapsed in a buzzing writhing mess. I turned to see Bazz holding his roaster to his shoulder. He then gave a hearty chuckle.

"Should give this out as bug spray and pesticide. Works great against mushrooms and little buggers" Despite the gas mask I could tell he held a smile behind the metal filter, the next voice came from his brother Barra.

"What about if it burns down the house mate?" Bazz gave another laugh when Looker jumped into the joke.

"Well, then you definitely got the fucker haven't you?" It was met with a short uproar of laughter, followed by more silence as we continued to wait around.

We couldn't brew or smoke due to our masks so we just continued to sit and let our charge packs soak up sunlight. Entertainment did come when we spotted gangs of gretchin picking through the dead. So we took turns shooting at them like bottles on a wall. Turning to familiar voices I could see short and stout figures moving down the defences, scampering amongst the ruins and craters. I could tell already it was the ratlings.

"Morning Ruru!" Looking at the group they too had gasmasks, however seem to have their goggles separated from their respirators. Probably made it easier to look down their sniper scopes.

"Aye Bruce, didn't recognise ya bro. Bit hard to see you with the mask and ork blood." Which he said with a hint of humour. It held truth as my uniform was stained in blood from the melee fighting. The majority being on my chest, arms and sole of my boot.

"Yeah, how're going?" I asked, looking at the ratlings they were picking through corpses of the enemy, ork and heretic. Rifling through their pockets and shifting them to look underneath. They paid special attention to avoiding guardsmen corpses. Not laying a finger on them, in fact the bald one I had seen before took time to manoeuvre the helmets of dead guardsmen to cover their eyepieces.

"Good bro, just looking around seeing if this lot have any good loot on them. How're you?" One of the ratlings upon closer look stood a few centimetres shorter than the others. I recognised the long straw like black hair tied into braids.

"It's been fine I guess." As I looked at the familiar ratling, Ruru caught notice and gestured to her.

"I haven't shown you my daughter right. She worked alone for a while but here she is my reka tamāhine. Hey Maia come over here." I was taken aback by this revelation as I saw Maia walk towards us.

"She's your daughter?" I asked, I couldn't see behind her goggles and mask but from the way tilted her head I could see she was also a bit confused.

"Couldn't ask for a better one, you met her before?" Ruru continued, before I could answer Maia shoved her father a bit and spoke bitterly.

"Don't call me that name dad, and yeah we met at the firing range a while back. I never caught your name." She turned to me, which I realised that was true I didn't mention my name back when she hit me in the gonads.

"My name's Bruce Duwal, not what you called me." I could hear a snicker escaping Ruru's mask as he placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"You call him a dickhead or a fuckface?" Maia immediately threw off his brown meaty hand and aggressively pointed at me.

"He talked shit about my height!" She shouted defensively through her mask further fueling Ruru's laughter as he took it as more a joke than anything. It drove a smile across my lips, under the canvas and rubber.

"We're ratlings aren't we reka tamāhine?" He coughed through his laughter as his daughter groaned in defeat and stomped off. Ruru calmed down and shrugged in false ignorance as he turned to me.

"She got her temper from her lovely mother and the looks from good ol' me. Anyway see you around Bruce." He said as we exchanged a quick wave and then moved along with his Kiwi kin as they continued to loot the battlefield. A few minutes of waiting followed before the captain got off the vox caster and looked around.

"Command has given orders, we're oscar mike. GET YOUR ASSES UP!" We quickly jumped up and stood ready to move. The captain waved his pace stick in the air then pointed towards into the desert.

"Forward march!" As tanks lead the way we advanced across a landscape of enemy corpses and decimated buildings. We watched as more bodies writhed and gave birth large flies. As the grots which moved about the dead were shot and enemy shrines and bodies were burnt by holy promethium.

As I looked at a bush covered in tentacles I didn't bat an eye. This was not surprising to see and we had seen weirder stuff. What we saw in the defence of Alfada made us not question it. We didn't need to question it because we expected it. The fact the sand moved beneath our feet in a swirling rainbow of colours. The fact the air was going from metallic to putrid stench of thick green fog surrounding us. The crackling of lightning and the rumble of guns in the distant dunes and from above. This was no longer alien to us.

This was the first day of the Crescent Offensive.

 **AN**

 **I'm sorry for the while to update and I hope this was worth it. I've got the next few chapters planned and also the new first chapter is finished I just need to do some edits. I hope you are all good and don't be afraid to post a review and follow the story. Cheers!**


	27. Decking the Halls

Decking the Halls

When the bombardment ended I climbed up off the sand. Really it was more like climbing out of the sand. I looked around as fellow guardsmen emerged from their shallow graves. Like reanimating corpses, as many of us looked like corpses anyway. Dried skin, skinny with sunken eyes and straggly hair and finger nails. I poured off the dust from my boots and clothing, being akin to drying off from a bath. Baths were a distant memory. The last time I had a swim was during the assault on Alfada. We sounded off and discovered we were all still alive, it was a relief. In fact it was unrealistically lucky for us no one in our squad had been downed.

Elevating the gas mask from my face was heavenly as the wind and sun hit my cracked skin, which had been pooling in warm sweat. After the first day the officers stated the air was clean. Clean from what was the question. The enemy wasn't wearing masks and yet we were forced to. As soon as masks were lifted, smokes were lit and billy tea was brewed. It was daylight and we had set up in holes and sandbags. We slept by day in the baking heat and moved by night. We hadn't encountered any large threats since the landing. Lasgun volleys and battle cannons could be heard in the distance as ork and heretic stood in our way. Insanity didn't stop our assault as we saw more phenomenons in the deserts of Shamal. The swirling colours of the sky never ceased. We didn't stop in turn. Anyone who stood in our way would either die or run. Marauder bombers flew overhead, dropping ammunition and food at low altitudes. Water was still in short supply with only one full bottle a day. No one went near any rivers or oasis we came across. They all ponged to Holy Terra.

On the 5th day we encountered a minefield. Thankfully being anti-tank mines meant they needed over 90 kilograms to set off. The only infantry this effected was the heavy weapon wielders. We got around this problem by disassembling their guns. But it meant we had to wait as the enginseers, servitors and combat engineers cleared paths for the armour. During the clearing a mob of greenskins emerged from the sand with a hail of shoota and slugga fire. It wasn't a long skirmish as the orks were small in number, obviously thinking the mines would slow us down. Not helped by the fact many of the orks weighed more than 90 kilograms.

In relation to that we had a long debate, which lasted several days on the nature on the ork/heretic relationship. Whenever we engaged with the enemy it was either against greenskins or heretics. Never any combined arms attacks. The only time they worked together that we had seen was when we first entered Alfada. Even then I vaguely remembered the argument between the larger ork and the mutated, heretical officer with horns. But the xenos and heretics weren't fighting. We wondered what if the orks are mercenaries. Some of the longer veterans suggested it was possible, how even Imperial commanders had bargained with the green brutes to fight. But it was extremely rare and orks don't tend to take to mercenary work well. We could guess the heretics were in charge with them having more coordinated attacks. The massacre of the 11th proved this, as they planned to have us out of cover. The orks just seem to wander around trying to find something to fight.

It was the 12th night, as we moved we looked around as we collectively heard engine roars. It was then when we saw a very distant black silhouette in the thick blue fog. Metallic groaning rippled the air. That's when we saw it emerge over our heads. Lance was the first to comment.

"I think that's a frigate?" A massive voidship, several kilometres long was coming towards the sand slowly at a steep angle. As metal fragments fell from the hull, it was clear it had been disabled in battle and was now being pulled down by Shamal's gravity. Liam voiced his opinion.

"Nah looks like cruiser to me." The vessel itself was covered in elaborate spikes, apart from that it was grey and sleek. Lacking the Imperial Eagle figurehead of Imperial Navy vessels.

"I think that's only the front part." Corporal Hardwood stated, as I took my own observation the growing realisation hit me. Expressing itself as I panicky shouted to my fellow guardsmen.

"IT'S COMING RIGHT AT US!" The relaxed atmosphere of the regiment changed rapidly as we scrambled in all directions to avoid the oncoming destruction of the damaged voidship. As we sprinted through the sand it became clear that the ship would take ages to actually hit the ground. But a second problem arose from that as I looked around.

We had scattered.

Our platoon had thankfully stuck together but we had broken away from the rest of the advance. I began to get vibes from the day the 11th was destroyed. Standing around in the flat desert, away from support and out of cover. When we did stop we received another order.

"SIR I SEE RENO ARMOUR, INFANTRY AND PLANES COMING RIGHT TOWARDS US!" One of the NCO's shouted as he held binoculars to his one eye. The lieutenant blew his shrill whistle and gave orders.

"Dig holes and get into cover. Private Bull, get on the vox and request reinforcements NOW!" Lance flicked on his earpiece and began speaking in military jargon as we got to work with blood stained e-tools. Heavy weapons were deployed and the platoon was soon dug in. We learnt long ago why AIF guardsmen got the nickname 'diggers'.

The enemy war machines lumbered forward on their clawed, metallic appendages. Their engines roared in a daemonic, mechanical laughter as their chest guns fired. Desecrated Leman Russ's moved with them, covered in brutalised corpses and heretical stars. Following the other battles, we let the naval batteries and heavy guns handle the tanks while we took the infantry. Black smoke trailed in the sky, following the glowing engines of planes. Bellow them mutant hordes moved in a flaying mass of tentacles, crab claws and other disgusting limbs with raspy war cries.

"DEATH TO THE FALSE EMPEROR!" Was one that was unified amongst their ranks as they waved their crude weaponry and marched with clubbed feet.

Their silhouettes in the moonlight were human in the loosest term. Their unsymmetrical arms varied from pale and chunky fingers, slimy tentacles, and barbed claws. Wrapped around weapons that made ork weapons look master crafted. A mix of looted lasguns, shotguns, pistols and tetanus-ridden blades. While I held little sympathy for the heretic, mutants didn't deserve life. They only deserved mercy at the end of a lasgun. Amongst the horde larger beings stood at a towering nine feet tall. Wielding mining equipment or heavy-stubber machine guns. Swinging them with violent excitement or vomiting hot lead. One of the 'gifts' their dark gods had cursed them with was their ability to take more damage than the standard heretic.

"Ugly sons of bitches." I heard Liam curse as we lay shoulder to shoulder in the shallow ditch that was cover. I took aim at one in particular. It was holding a standard, which displayed a corpse. Waving like a flag, with what I could assume was flesh flapping in the wind.

"Prepare rapid fire at the 200 metre mark!" The lieutenant stated, his bolt pistol was poking over the side of the trench. The lascannon was set up next to him, already firing at the enemy vehicles.

"FIRE!" Squeezing the trigger, my lasgun cracked, though the beam certainly hit the standard bearer it didn't fall. The trembles that had plagued me when I first started my service was gone. I had a rather good aim now. The second round again hit the bearer. I saw how the mutant's jaw hung like a ripped blanket from a warped head. With holes burned into its body. The third round missed but entered the shoulder of the mutant behind it. I continued to fire with my fellow guardsmen into the wave of filth.

The intensity of the volleys increased, coming over our heads. The cry for reinforcements was answered. I briefly turned to see another platoon running while firing. It was wordless as they joined us. After a brief exchange between the two officers the order was given over the sound of a whistle.

"FALLBACK TOWARDS THOSE ROCKS! MOVE IT!" Standing up from our defences we ran. Only stopping to fire blind shots towards the approaching mutant horde.

The sound of a lone autocannon overtook the lasguns as Corporal Hardwood continued to hip-fire his weapon. A gun that weighed 40 kilograms. 32 kilograms without the tripod. Looker was carrying it on his shoulders. We were heading towards a collection of jagged rocks pointing out of the ground. Like a half buried corpse. The closer we got I realised they looked artificial. Similar to the ancient xenos structures near the capital. We hit the deck when gunfire sailed over our helmets.

"THAT'S COVERING FIRE! KEEP MOVING!" The lieutenant picked up Bazz by his webbing and threw him to his feet. We followed suit and we continued to run. When we reached the rocks we joined in with returning fire. The mutant horde kept up their suicidal charge. But in the background the heretic forces scattered.

"GET AROUND THE BACK THEY'RE TRYING TO ENCIRCLE US!" One of the officers shouted as guardsmen left the crude barricades and ran to other defensive positions.

I was currently kneeling behind a large brick. My lasgun continuing to disperse righteous fury on the heretics. A dead guardsman was before me. Lying face down in the sand with his back riddled with auto gun rounds. The poor man would probably be alive if he was a few seconds faster. Then he would be probably by my side. Instead I was with Jackson to my left and Kull to my right. Enemy heavy guns struck the temporary fortification. Crumbling the ancient stone. Strafing runs ripped the ground apart in long continuous swathes of intense gunfire. We didn't flinch, and the enemy was hoping we would. But they were still getting close.

"FIX BAYONETS!" With precise drill the blades were fixed and ready. The mutant I focused on was a dog headed woman. Covered in blood red fur, froth coming down its' growling mouth and dripping onto what little clothing it had. I didn't raise my bayonet fast enough. It tackled me. Grabbing my lasgun and forcing me down. Its' snapping maw pooled globs of yellow bubbles and spit onto my face. I dug my head further into the sand as its teeth came closer.

"DIE MUTANT!" Lance came to my rescue. Kicking the dog creature off me and raising his lasgun. With a scream of rage he squeezed the trigger, putting the mutant out of its retched misery. I couldn't help but smile in relief.

"Thanks mate, owe you one!" I raised my hand, with a returning grin he firmly gripped my arm and lifted me to my feet. Second time Lance has saved me. I wiped some of the grungy saliva off my face.

"Just get me a beer when you can!" With a motivated roar it was back into the fray, bayonet first. With the mutants finally routed, the enemy took their time digging in. Uniformed bodies lay on the lips of craters. Firing off a mix of autogun and lasgun fire. Placing my sights towards the enemy I joined the brutal trade of gunfire.

I noticed Kull wasn't at my side and looked back. He was standing over a screaming wounded guardsman. Green viscera stained his tunic while yellow blood dripped from his face, mixed with his own flowing blood. Working in brutal efficiency, Kull was ripping apart the guardsman's tunic and digging through the wound with a tool in hand. The guardsman bawled and struggled, flaying limbs being held down by the medic's bodyweight. I wouldn't be surprised if Kull was out of morphia. The eyes behind the smeared glasses were focused fully on the man underneath them. Ignoring the cries of battle, his face held a sneer. His hands were deep in blood. Kull turned to the guardsmen and in a ragged voice of dryness and tired rage roared.

"SHUT UP AND YOU'LL LIVE!"

Taking my eyes off the medic I turned back to the enemy. When my lasgun ran dry I realised I was down to my last two charge packs. Something happened however, the enemy got up and retreated. It was hard not to charge after them and cut them down in a bayonet charge. When the lieutenant barked an order I responded without hesitation.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" The noise was beyond comprehension as the battlefield was illuminated by the fire and embers of when the ship impacted the dust. Detonating in a bright promethium fountain of fire. I felt a shockwave shudder through my body. Hitting the deck as raining metal came down, striking the sand and rock. A storm of blinding sand fell from the sky as it was driven into the air by the ship's bow penetrating the sand.

"GET UP AND KEEP FIRING! GIVE THEM NO QUARTER!" I did as one of the officers yelled and went back to my kneeling position. Eventually the cracks of lasgun fire died down as the enemy began to fall back in a trained fighting withdrawal. Their tanks and crabs providing covering fire for their infantry. We were not ordered to chase them. We did fire after them, but held our position.

"Set up defences and wait for orders!" We followed orders and reinforced the ruins with bodies and moved rocks. When the order was given it was back on the move.

The next few days were quiet, but scouts become wary of the enemy regrouping and bunkering down in more defendable areas. As we marched we found remnants of heretic camps, they were smart enough to destroy their weapons and tip their water. They left their rations however, which after tasting them we didn't wonder why. The tins of preserved meat were rancid in flavour, and from a discarded letter we found the enemy agreed. While the rations were labeled 'O.M' which stood for 'Offal Mix', the enemy liked to call it 'old man'. In fact the enemy seemed to prefer our rations, seeing we found tins of Bully Beef and other Imperial marked packages in the sand. Tank crews found the heretics watery soup very good for cooling down their Leman Russ engines. Once the writhing tentacles and blood-shot eyes has been filtered out.

The orks fought on despite the report a group of Tallarns killed their Warboss. They had to lure the giant greenskin out of a cave, said ork charged out wearing mega armour. A tank fired a single round at the ork, when it failed to kill the greenskin they ran it over. Clogging the treads with guts and metal. An area we were coming across was known officially as Kabir Ridge. Or what the Praetorians called it 'Scranee Ridge'. An amalgamation of the words 'scraped' and 'knee'. The fighting was apparently fierce as the ground was hard and rocky. Leaving both sides with scraped knees as they crawled up or down the rocky surface. However the area is a natural fortress. Praetorians were ordered to withdraw after several weeks of defending the place. But when we saw the series of ridges and rock formations in the flat sand, we saw something more intimidating.

"How long do you think until it passes?" Fernard asked as Piper looked through her binoculars. It was midday, while we could see Scranee ridge coming closer it was overshadowed by the sand storm. She lowered the lenses and looked back to us.

"Hard to tell, doesn't seem very big but it's definitely is thick." As we experienced back at Alfada, fighting in a sand storm was uncoordinated, messy and we lost Ross to it. Assuming Ross wasn't gunned down and his corpse was buried by the storm. In fact I hope he was killed in that battle and not captured by the enemy.

"Does it look normal." I asked, Shamal normal and normal were different. When I asked for 'normal' I meant if it looked different to a sandstorm you would find on Arala. By now weird was not having fields of crab claws acting as grass. The claws like to grab people and hold them still, only letting go when forced with a bayonet.

"No anomalies I can see. The place is mined and barbed so we're going to have to cover for the cogboys and engineers. They also say a Drookian force is moving to encircle them. When the storm hits we move, get ready." We made the same processes for when we did the patrol, pants tucked into socks and sleeves rolled down. This time however we used gas masks instead of rags to cover our faces. Then we waited for nighttime. When night fell we were ordered to crawl across the sand, just like the patrols.

We went over mines and under barbed wire, moving with swiftness and urgency across the flat ground. Shadows of heretical sacrifices could be seen, crucified on spikes and chains. Haunting chants to heretical gods drifted in the sandstorm. Playing through a mixture of loud speakers and dry throats. One speech in particular played over enemy loudspeakers, in a gravely voice. Similar to the one that played enemy propaganda back at Alfada.

"Champions of the true gods! You have been an issued an order by the ruinous powers themselves! No more retreating! No steps back! The greenskins we thought as allies have abandoned us for their own greed! As of now they are to be treated with same prejudice as the dogs of the False Emperor! But we will fight on! Khorne gives us strength. Slaanesh gives us energy. Nurgle gives us vigour. Tzeench gives us might." As we got closer we could see the lips of dugouts and trenches. Helmet shaped shadows moved as we approached. We were about fifty metres away. That's when the whistles blew and we charged. Just as the loud speakers blared with a screeching cry.

"WE WILL TAKE THIS PLANET OR DIE TRYING!" Swathes of heavy bolter fire cut through guardsman. The enemy scrambled to their firing steps. Raising their lasguns to us, I ignored the guardsmen that fell around me. No point in helping them if the enemy was still firing. An officer yelled an order before we hit the trenches.

"GRENADES!" Doing as the officer ordered I fell on my belly and removed a frag grenade from my belt. Proceeding to rip the pin out and I tossed it into a dugout. Waiting five-seconds, an explosion kicked up dust as screams of renegades joined the wails of wounded guardsmen.

Following up with a charge we dropped into the trench. Ignoring the writhing bodies beneath our boots. Following the clearance procedure we swept through the corridors. Hurling grenades into bunkers and laying waste to anyone who stood in our way. With the sandstorm and darkness of the night blocking most view. Illumination came from muzzle flashes and lasgun beams. The enemy didn't retreat. We continued up the ridge. The enemy falling back even further up. But as we followed they continued to lay down fire. Brodie Cohen was the first to get hit. Falling back when a lasgun round pierced his abdomen. Barry Cohen screamed as he ran over to pull his brother out of harms way. The silhouette of Kull then joined the two. I could tell it was Kull from the medic bag swinging from his shoulder. As we fought on the playing of bagpipes sounded in the wind as the Drookian's advanced on the enemy. The last of the enemy went underground, into a tunnel network. One of the officers went to call high command but was cut off. The other officers stating if we called high command about the tunnels they would order us to clear them. So we covered the doorways as an enginseer rigged the entrances with explosives. There was argument with the officers asking if it was better to clear the tunnels so we could use them to hide. But casualties on our side were mounting, so it seemed better to just lock the enemy down there. The flag of the imperium was raised above Scranee, clouded in the sandstorm and the smoke of funeral pyres. We set up defences and made it more homely. The scent of billy tea was all I needed.

Days passed since the battle, the Drookians were nice blokes and the sound of bagpipes was a mixture of soothing and invigorating. It was also hilarious when some of their kilts flew up due to the wind. Brodie was sent back for treatment, while his brother appeared agitated. I could relate to him. I remember a time when Darryl got sent to the hospital when he caught sand lung. Kept me up for several days. Darryl should be fighting on Muana II by now. Just hope he doesn't get himself killed in the jungles and mountains of that deathly moon.

We were ordered to hold Scranee ridge until further instructions. The lullaby of cannon fire in the distance felt serene. Eventually our platoon was given orders. We stood at ease when the lieutenant marched in.

"Platoon, the sandstorm has blown our supply drops all over the dunes. Regiment HQ wants us to head out and retrieve it. The one we are heading to is only about two kilometres away, so don't bother bringing your less essential gear. Let's move it mates." We filed out of the trenches and down one of the de-mined pathways, which lead out into the flat desert. We marched on with a field of view no farther than about ten metres. When we saw an ork corpse it wasn't unusual. But when we stopped to examine several more they shared a pattern.

"Why have they all got their heads missing?" Liam asked as he knelt by a decapitated ork nobb, surrounded by several ork boys, which shared the same fate.

"Maybe however killed them took some trophies?" Piper stated, the sand was stained in a considerable amount of blood. One corpse was eye catching in how the greenskin's intestines were trailed like a rope. That wasn't unusual but the fact the guts were ripped right out of the xenos' throat was unsettling.

"They have no bullet wounds on them, only…very deep and jagged cuts." Liam described as he stuck a bayonet into one of the wounds on the ork's chest. The blade went almost all the way before hitting muscle. In fact the wounds were very similar to the ones made by chainsword blades. The voice of the lieutenant was heard in the wind.

"Stop playing with the greenskins and keep moving. The longer we're out here the longer we're in danger." The voice startled us enough into catching up with the rest of the platoon.

As we continued through the dunes we spotted the silhouettes of corpses that littered the sands. Guardsmen, heretic, ork, mutant and others, which I didn't identify. It was when we went past an effigy it became a bit more clear. A brass spike driven into the ground with bodies of varying races impaled like meat on a spit. Each was ripped apart in some fashion. My hands began to tremble, the sweat under my mask grew thicker. It was when I spotted a glimpsing figure, prancing in the wind accompanied by a soothing daemonic tune. A metallic taste filled my mouth, causing an involuntary gag. I spoke my opinion.

"I don't like this mates…where's the supply drop?" My question was met with a pause and the sound of boots and rustling webbing. Eventually Sergeant Piper answered me.

"Should be around here…just keep your eyes open and-." We froze as a metallic chime filled our ears. We looked around with fearful eyes behind gas mask lenses as the inevitable thought set in.

"Nobody move…who has the mine beneath their foot?" The ground beneath me felt soft and sandy, I felt a rush of relief fill my body as the thought of death left me. That didn't stop the dread setting in at the thought someone else had a mine beneath his or her boot.

"I have it…left foot." Jackson's voice didn't sound scared, in fact it was similar to how he sounded since the death of his love. Cold and without animation, as we turned to him he stood still. Lance began to throw off his vox caster.

"Don't worry mate, just stay still and I can disarm it." Lance gave an uncomfortable chuckle as he dropped his lasgun and reached for his tool pouch. Sergeant Piper however stopped him with an arm over his chest.

"The mine should have gone off the moment he stepped on it, therefore it's defective." One thing was worse than an exploding artillery shell was an unexploded one. We found that out several times in Alfada, ork munitions are the worst offenders. At least when an earthshaker round goes off it's dealt with. But when it doesn't explode it sits. Menacingly ticking with anticipated results. Jackson was literally on top of a ticking time bomb.

"Well, he should just be able to step off seeing the…oh wait the trigger mechanism will definitely go off." Lance's sentence was a bid for optimism but turned pessimistic when his thoughts on weaponry reached him. It was dire bad luck Jackson had stepped on the mine, and a bloody miracle he hadn't died instantly.

"Everyone get back thirty metres, we'll see if we can get a cogboy down here." The lieutenant ordered as we backed off, leaving Jackson isolated in the sand. Standing mid stride with his gas mask facing downwards. If any noise came from him it would be drowned out by the howling wind of the sandstorm.

As we sat there, silently praying for the mine not to go off until the enginseer got to Jackson. However the mechanicus lot were busy currently. Most were trying to fix the enemy artillery on Scranee. So we could use it in the case of a counter attack. But apart from that we were alone, with only bodies and the sand. It was when Jackson was the first to speak.

"Mates…go on without me." His head rose and he looked towards Liam, Lance and I. Lance shook his head as he approached Jackson.

"Jackson no, we can fix this we can…" Jackson raised his hand and gestured to the mine under his foot. He then continued to speak.

"I'm just weighing you down, I'm not scared. Just go…she'll be right." He stuck up a thumb as he choked the last few words. As if he was holding back tears.

"She'll be right." He repeated as we turned from him. Before we left he lit a lho-stick and chucked both the matches and the rest of the cigs towards us. Before I left I stopped and looked at him, his broken and scruffy lips cracked to a smile.

"Bruce, you go find that girlfriend ok?" I remembered that conversation back at the capital, I returned a smile as I felt the tear trickle down my hidden face. When Adriano, Bolin, Zhixen and Sergeant Wesly died it was instant, but I was standing before a friend. A mate who was waiting for death to whisk him away, like all the others before him.

"Yeah mate…I'll try." I turned and I silently left him to his demise.

When we found the drop it had an ork trukk nearby. Upon closer inspection the door of the vehicle had been ripped off its hinges. A massive indent was at the forefront of the vehicle. An ork with a hole the size of a dinner plate in its chest rested in the drivers seat. Also with its head missing. Meanwhile the gunner was also headless and was smeared across the hull with its arm ripped off. Said arm was mangled and broken nearby. As if the ork had been beaten to death with its own arm. Whatever had come through here was extremely strong and extremely violent. The supplies were untouched aside from some blood splatter. It took about eight guardsmen to carry it, similar to carrying a large coffin.

The dust storm was thinning which was both relieving and chilling. Up ahead Jackson could still be seen, now more relaxed, and still looking at the moving ground. As we silently approached he looked up and immediately raised a finger to his mouth. Giving the universal sign of 'shut the fuck up'. He then gestured to the surrounding desert and continued to hold his finger in the air. I was first confused before a voice was heard. Metallic and crude. Holding a deep raspiness, yet cheery attitude. I barely managed to decipher the words.

"DECK, THE HALLS WITH BLOODY CORPSES LALALALALA, LALALALA!" The voice was familiar. I looked around and I wasn't the only one on edge.

"RIP, THEIR SKIN AND HEAR THEM WAILING LALALALALA, LALALALA!" The lieutenant lightly clapped his hands and waved his bolt pistol in a circle. We dropped the cache and scattered into a perimeter. Lying prone in the dust. Weapons facing outwards, Jackson was the centre of this temporary holding.

"REAP, THEIR SKULLS AND HOLD THEM DEARLY LALALA LALALA LA LA LA!" I remembered that voice. The one which screamed of enraged hatred before the death of Sergeant Wesley. My blood ran cold. My hair stood on end. I held my breath. Death was on its way.

"BLESSED, BY KHORNE AND HIS SKULL THRONE! **BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!** "

* * *

 **~IMPORTANT ANNOUNCMENT~**

 **I have completely redone the first chapter of the story, sharing no resemblance of the first chapter I did last time. However it does not have much other effect on the rest of the story, but might change how you read it. So if you need to, go read that.**

 **Apart from that, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and see you all next time.**


	28. Under Dust

**It's been a while, but I'm still working on it.  
**

Under Dust

A towering figure screamed a metallic, rage-filled roar as it charged from the dust cloud. Joined in a crescendo of revving chain blades and scraping crimson armour alongside jangling chains. It was joined by screams of fear as we turned to open fire on the 9 foot tall monstrosity of a man. Assuming it was a man at all. Its outline showed massive pouldrens and horns with spikes coming from the horrific armour. Most details were hidden behind a curtain of shifting sand. It shrugged off damage as it reached the nearest guardsmen. Bringing down both blades the creature turned the man before it into minced gristle, bone and flak armour. Not taking time to slow down it turned, throwing a blade at another fellow infantryman. The woman who received the axe shrieked in agony as the blade continued to tear into her flesh and bones with brutal efficiency. It passed the corpse of the guardswoman, ripping the blade from the now split body. Following it up it charged a rocket launcher team, twirling with ballerina like grace as it carved both guardsmen in twain. Wretched organs and viscera tumbled to the ground with the disemboweled corpses. The sandstorm withered and gave way to a creature covered in skulls. Ork skulls, human skulls, mutant skulls and skulls which I could not recognise. Its armour was soaked in fresh blood swirling with brown dried blood, with glimpses of brass. It had a large, metal backpack which had racks of more skulls alongside other trinkets. It was the same creature that killed Sergeant Wesly.

"RUN FOR IT!" The order's origin was unknown but it was followed swiftly as we ran from the creature. All exempt one man, who stood like a statue in the chaos. He had unslung his lasgun and fixed his bayonet.

"COME ON!" Jackson's voice was filled with unfiltered hatred as he raised his lasgun and fired at the creature. The monster slowly turned in his direction.

"I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU! KILL ME!" The lumbering behemoth approached him, its chain axes slowed to a stop as it sauntered in Jackson's direction.

"KILL ME!" Jackson's efforts were for naught as the creature didn't flinch as the pelting of his lasgun. When the creature was close enough Jackson lunged with his bayonet. Dropping its weapons, the creature bent the blade in half before reaching for Jackson's head.

"KILL MEAAAAGH!" The sight made my stomach churn as the creature, using its bare hands, ripped Jackson's head from his shoulders. I've heard the screams of the dead and dying before but this was not the same. His voice gargled as blood from the ripped flesh poured down his throat. The sickening rip of skin echoed in the winds. It ended with a sudden crack as his skull left his spine. Jackson's headless body stood still, then dropped into the sand. The creature promptly impaled his skull on a hook hanging from a chain. As if Jackson's skull meant more than the other guardsmen it just killed. The land mine didn't go off.

"JACKSON!" My scream didn't go unnoticed as the creature reared its vision slits in my direction. As I turned to run I felt a force grab my leg, sending me flat on my belly. Looking down one of the mutated bushes had clasped around my foot. The creature slowly knelt and picked up its weapons. I reached for my bayonet to uproot the bush. Suddenly an explosion kicked up the dust as the land mine went off. It was no anti-infantry mine, the mushroom cloud was tall and full. With a sense of minor relief I began stabbing at the bush, but I heard the grumble penetrate the cloud.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" I looked up to the clearing sand to see the beast standing with weapons in hand. Chunks of armour were taken off but it still looked like bloodlust incarnated. It sauntered in my direction. I looked to my lasgun.

"SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!" I desperately clawed for my lasgun. Lying just out of reach of my finger tips. I could hear the approaching thumps as metallic boots stomped into the flat sand. I got my fingers around the sling and pulled it towards me.

" **DEATH TO THE FALSE EMPEROR!"** The roaring blades swirled as if they were centimetres from my ear. The shadow of death loomed over me as I put my hand on the grip and rolled onto my back. Taking the lasgun in two hands I aimed skyward towards the enemy that towered above me. Blood drenched blades dripping down as they were raised above the monstrosities head. With a roar of blind fear, I squeezed the trigger.

The blind flurry of lasgun rounds impacted on the creatures armour but one was the end. Striking between the weak gap between the monster's helmet and chest plate the beam went straight into the neck. I emptied the rest of the charge pack into the creature, all shots proved futile as the creature stood like a statue. As if the body was still registering the death. The roaring of the blades stopped, giving way to my hoarse scream and useless whining of an empty lasgun. I ceased when the creature's armour groaned and it was brought to the ground. The thud made everything seem silent.

My chest heaved as my lungs greedily sucked oxygen down my gas mask filter. I dropped my lasgun and just lay there. The emotions inside me jumbled and fought. I felt relief at the fact I hadn't lost my life. I giggled in happiness as I felt the claws of death loosen from me. Jackson, a man I had grown up with, invited into my home, played footy with, watched get a girlfriend and had spend over a decade being friends with. A man who fought off the urge to end himself when he lost what he loved. A man who continued his duty despite this all. Was dead. I felt tears trail under my gas mask, as I mourned my mate. My muscles ached all over, my skin stung in the sand, my thighs were chaffed raw, my loins itched with my venereal disease. I was laughing and crying in insane synchronisation as I lay there in that blood soaked sand. Slowly being buried by the storm.

I didn't notice that by the time the tears stopped the sun had risen, I had probably been assumed dead by my platoon. The sandstorm had cleared, baking me in the heat. Flies had already found the bodies and feasted on the decaying flesh. They probably learned bodies won't stay fresh long in the dry heat. They danced on my dirt and blood-covered skin, I didn't have energy to shoo them off. I heard voices in the wind, more unholy hallucinations that had hounded us for months. But it became clearer.

"I fink wez just got a find ere boyz." I didn't need to look to know from the voice and smell it was an ork. The sound of heavy footsteps came closer.

"Got tah be somting good and propa in this lot." The voice was different meaning more than one, and from the scurrying probably more. I knew laying still was my best option for survival. A deep snorting noise could he heard with panting like a dog along with them. It was drowned out with the noise of the chainaxe. I tried my best not to coldly shiver from the sound.

"Looks liok I foun meself a new choppa, aye look dere's anuver one." As this happened the snorting got closer. Revealing itself in my lenses was a creature, best described as an ugly, red ball with a large tooth-filled mouth and two stubby legs. I've heard of squigs but haven't seen one this close. It sniffed me over with yellowish drool dribbling onto my mask.

"GIVE ME UN!" One of the orks yelled demanding one of the chainaxes, based on ork behaviour I could tell where this was going.

"NO! I FOUN IT FURST!" I could hear the fighting but the fact the squig was dragging its tongue across my mask blocked any vision of it.

A chunk of the dumb creatures head exploded as it fell, its tongue hanging out of its gob. Suddenly the greenskins fell silent, in sync with a sound of heavy sacks tumbling to the ground. I shifted to see the fighting orks on the ground with holes in their heads. I still chose not to move, and fell back into my feigned death. It was a while until I perceived voices.

"Fuck, what happened here." My neck was stiff as I slowly looked to my left to see several approaching figures. Stout and small with sniper rifles pointed towards the creature.

"Bloody orks looting our dead…Shit that's…" The voice was familiar, I tried to talk only for my breath to scrape at my throat like meat in a grinder, manifesting as a corse exhale. It failed to gain attention of the ratlings.

"A traitor astartes? I haven't seen once since Cadia…Just to make sure." One of the ratlings shot the monster in the head, I could hear the light patters of small feet on the sand.

"Take their tags, we'll call someone to pick up the bodies? Who killed it?" I dragged my hand out of the sand and sluggishly dragged it in midair. I croaked out another weak cry for help.

"H…Help." The heads of the ratlings turned to me. One ran over and started to dig me up from my temporary grave. His voice was stern, not the usual cheery tone he kept up.

"Bruce? Bro can you hear me? Get his mask off." The voice belonged to Ruru. The others joined him as one worked on pulling my gas mask off. The one doing so was Maia, who took off my helmet and lifted my mask. As that happened Ruru brought a canteen to my mouth. I eagerly gulped down the warm water, it had a weak alcoholic taste to it.

"Can you walk?" Ruru asked as I felt the last of the sand clearing my body, I leant up and pointed at the plant around my ankle.

"You need to cut the…" I looked down to see nothing holding me down, just my standard boots and greaves of my flak armour.

"Never, mind." I stood up and shook the rest of the sand from my uniform, I reached for my water bottle and took several very long swigs. Ruru talked as I got a look at the dead monster before me. I could see the processing of thoughts going through Ruru's head as he looked at me.

"Bruce, do you know what you have done?" Space Marines, I was taught of their deeds as a child with bedtime stories and books at the school library. How they could destroy hundreds of enemies of the emperor and not break a sweat. Or kill with just a glare alone. I stood victorious over a twisted shadow of the Emperor's holy image.

"You have just killed a traitor astartes, one of the most reviled enemies of the Imperium. Space Marines that have turned their back on the Emperor. You have slain one, I've done it too but with a high powered sniper rifle and hours of planning…They're going to see you as more than just a guardsman after this." I looked at Ruru with confusion, by now the other ratlings had scattered and were moving amongst the dead. Removing dogtags from the corpses of the guardsmen that were alive a mere few hours ago. I was confused, or maybe it was the dehydration and shock.

"What do you mean?" He waved me down to his hight. I dropped to one knee and listened closely. He moved close to my ear and whispered into it.

"Guardsmen who kill traitor marines receive a special medal of saint Meleum. Check any medals you receive in the next few weeks." Ruru turned to face his fellow kin as he raised his voice, pointing at one ratling in particular.

"Send a call out to HQ, tell them we've found the supplies and casualties awaiting pickup and a live guardsman." I walked over and looked at the head of Jackson, his mouth hanging open slightly with dry blood on the cuts. The rest of his body was all over the place, this was all that's left. One of the ratlings took out a large brick shaped communications device and began dialling.

"Bro, it's sealed shut." I looked to my right to see the bald ratling fiddling with the latch on the supply cache. Being the kleptomaniac, gluts they were, I could guess what their motives involved stealing and/or eating the contents.

"Shit." One of the other ratlings swore, as they were denied access to the supplies of rations and lho-sticks. I looked and saw Maia's eyes dart away as I met her gaze. She went back to going through the pockets of an ork boy.

We didn't have to wait long in the desert sun as a patrol approached in the distance. It was a group of Aralan guardsmen surrounding a Praetorian Leman Russ towing a flat bed trailer. I stood up as the group approached and recognised it as my platoon. That was when it dawned on me.

They left me.

They left Jackson and me for dead, with only one of us getting it out alive. If they really cared they would be straight out here and looking for me like they did for when Jackson tried to kill himself. This was what Ross must of felt like when we never went back for him. However my negative thoughts didn't last for long. All of my cynicism disappeared the moment I saw Lance drop his lasgun and charge at me.

"Bruce!" I couldn't help and smile at his joyful reaction as I reflected him in dropping my lasgun and holding my arms out wide. I responded.

"Lance!" He wrapped me in a tight hug which I returned as we stumbled in each other's grip, his laugh was ecstatic. It felt euphoric, I let loose a few laughs as I patted him on the back.

"Thought you were fucking dead." He breathed through the laughs, I looked over at Ruru as he smiled with a freshly lit lho-stick in his mouth.

"I just had a short enter of my grave, Ruru's lot helped me out of it." I could feel him looking over my shoulder at the corpse of the traitor astartes. The others were looking at the body along with finding the pieces of dead Imperial guardsmen. Ruru's mob passed us as they approached the Leman Russ's trailer. The leader of the snipers pointed at me.

"He killed it." Ruru confirmed, as he calmly climbed onto the trailer and lounged around. The other guardsmen immediately looked at me with a mixture of befuddlement and awe. Lance finally let me go. The fact they didn't accuse the Kiwi of pulling a usual joke spoke volumes.

The corpses of the dead guardsmen were loaded onto the trailer alongside the cache and ratlings. We all hesitated in taking Jackson's head from the hook on the astartes' armour, until one of the Praetorian tank crewman volunteered. Liam vomited as it made squelching pop sound as it slid off the spike. It was hard to watch. It was bundled up in a sack and placed with the other body bits. I took the offer to ride on the trailer while the others jogged alongside.

When we arrived back at Scranee Hill it had not changed since my 'death'. However an armoured regiment of Praetorians had moved in along with two regiments of Mordian line infantry. The Mordians and Praetorians got along well, not surprising really. They shared similar tactics of walking and volley firing into the enemy with brightly coloured uniforms completely inappropriate for the very hot climate. Which lead to a high rate of fainting while marching and always looking like a waterfall was coming from their hat/pith helmets. They also seemed to share the constant disciplined frown that Victrus had all the time. Drookians and Aralans were still waiting for orders.

As I talked to my fellow guardsmen I got updates on what happened. The Crescent offensive has been declared a success with Imperial units breaking through the enemy lines. The enemy was being pushed back towards their landing sight and the heretics were on the retreat. The orks were leaderless. Heretic ships were trying to get as many of their own forces off the planet, running a gauntlet through an Imperial Navy blockade. Alfada was recaptured, the town and spaceport being found abandoned with the enemy leaving behind weapons and gear. It was predicted that within several weeks, all major enemy forces would either be destroyed or routed. It was uplifting to have good news for once. No one asked me about the fact I killed a traitor marine. But the lieutenant did report it to his superior, he said he had to.

Remaining units of the AIF weren't done yet. Bands of heretics in isolated pockets still remained and fought on. Some of these included leaders, who had been on Imperial hit lists for a while now. Commanders, cult leaders, witches and mutant rabble rousers who sought to hide in the tide of Imperial might. We were to be a part of this clean up effort. We were ordered to hurry up and wait. Billy tea was brewed while we did.

Three days of being on trucks and trains we were on the way to our next battle. A sizeable pocket of both renegade forces and local cultists had barricaded themselves in one of the ancient alien structures. It was first asked of why don't we just let them hold up and just wait for them to starve to death or die of dehydration. Officers stated that HQ was afraid that it was possible for the enemy to use 'unholy means' to bring forth forces. Therefore High Command saw it as an enemy outpost within Imperial territory with the capability of exploding into another front. So we were sent to deal with it along with a majority force of Tallarns and small amount of Cadians.

The current major issue facing the Imperial Guard was the planet's population. Any area that had been liberated, many of the civilians were found to be converted to the heretical beliefs of the enemy. This led to mass deployments of ministorum missionaries, preachers and confessors. It was demonstrated as when we were waiting at a train station, watching the movement a column of refugees as they passed through. Standing atop a water truck a group of monks used hoses to spray holy water into the crowds. A priest would recite holy passages with a loud speaker as a choir sung. Meanwhile a servitor moved in the crowd holding an Imperial Aquila and censer. Anyone who acted with hostility or fear would be taken away and further tested. They were never seen, and their families were dragged away with them. They were taken into the back of waiting autocarriages. While we never learnt what happened to them, it most likely involved promethium and a spark.

We arrived at the cult's fortress around midday. Fortress was a bit too generous, but it was certainly defendable. The main building was one of the xenos structures of great elaborate construction, protruding from the dunes. About 30 metres high as a triangular prism poking from the yellow sand with a deep, blueish-grey colour. Banners with the heretical star icon hung from tall poles with a shoddy wall made from rock and metal surrounded the main building. The enemy knew we were outside. Now we just needed to wait for the Tallarns to arrive. We were ordered to sleep and be ready for the assault.

The battle started as we laid in the sand watching as a squadron of Avenger Strike Fighters strafed the area with bolt cannons and lascannons. The screams of heretics were taken over by the rumble of jet engines. Before the dust cleared more was kicked up as Tallarn Leman Russ's and Chimeras advanced on the fortress. The dozer blades of the battle tanks crashed through the crude defences. It was followed up by a varied hail of gunfire as the tanks cut through the cultist and mutant ranks. The Chimeras followed, throwing open their backdoors with mechanised infantry clearing up the stragglers and clearing the shoddy shacks and tents. We readied our guns on the gates of the fortification. As predicted, the cultists attempted to flee from the Tallarn advance. The officers gave the orders.

"OPEN FIRE!" The survivors got cut down in a volley of lasgun and other rounds. Their screams were carried in the wind and it didn't take long for every cultist to lay in the sand.

"ADVANCE ON THE GATE!" The next order was followed quickly with us jumping from our prone positions and moving up the dunes. Any stragglers were swiftly put down. Either through bayonet or lasround. By the time we reached the gates over the pile of corpses, the battle was already over. The Tallarn mechanised infantry were already pulling corpses into funeral pyres. It was thought to be over until we saw the guardsmen standing outside the doors to the archaic xenos structure.

"The damn heretics have bunkered themselves in the tunnels." The same thought came to everyone's mind. Do what we did at Scranee and just blow the entrance and lock them down there. No need to have any risk of wounds or other problems. Just straight into there and have everyone done. So we helped out our guardsmen in arms in moving the dead and got ready to watch the explosion. The cultists were dressed similarly to standard citizens, with traditional robes. However they added charms and trinkets of heretic symbolism. They tended to wear pieces of renegade uniforms. Beneath their robes they showed varying signs of mutation. Ranging from subtle small horns and sharpened fangs to overt, greenish, fat roles and mangled arms. The act of burning them was delightful, the smell however was still disgusting. Our moods were lowered when the lieutenant got off the vox caster. He didn't look happy.

"Bad news I'm afraid, high command says the cult is holding a high value target. A high up officer of the heretic forces. They want him brought before them. We're going to have to go down into there." He was looking forward to it as much as we were, especially when Sergeant Piper responded with.

"So you're saying, high command wants us. To go into cramped tunnels, full of heretics and only the Emperor knows what other things. To capture or kill one officer?" The lieutenant looked around, his hands nervously playing with the lapels of his great coat. He nodded as he looked at Piper.

"Yep…They do." He reached into his pocket and took out a gold watch, he flicked it open.

"Captain should be returning from briefing soon, ready up. You may want to trade those for something more compact." His comment was directed at the heavy weapons teams, they dispersed in search of more compact weaponry.

An enemy could see Hardwood's gun several minutes before he turned the corner. While the others did change their weapons for lasguns, the corporal refused. He still brought his autocannon and readied up. Liam while still bringing his grenade launcher, he had managed to get his hands on a laspistol for the more cramped spaces. Lance dropped his bulky vox caster. Similar to how we dropped our backpacks. We removed the stocks from our lasguns. As part of our preparations we readied our lamp kits. Fist sized lights that would shine for roughly five hours.

"What does the target look like?" Kull asked as he sharpened his bayonet on a wet stone, something he did quite often I might add. The lieutenant hesitated before he responded.

"Sickly pale skin, one big horn on the left side of his face. He also has a big tattoo over his right eye. He also should be dressed like a heretic officer…Actually just kill them all, we'll check the bodies after they're all dead." He said, Fernard immediately stuck up her hand, the lieutenant gestured that she could speak.

"Didn't high command say bring him before them?" The lieutenant's moustache curved upwards as he gave a sly chuckle. He cleared his throat before he responded.

"They said to bring him back. They didn't say, what condition to bring him back in." After a few more minutes of waiting we were called up to get ready to storm the complex.

As we knelt by the doorway, shed of our extra gear we waited for the signal. The majority of the entry team would be Tallarn Mechanised Infantry. Minus the Chimera's of course, so really they were just regular infantry for now. I was starting to receive bad vibes as I looked at the entrance to the triangular, xenos building. Like a black and empty maw that just went on forever. My nerves were slightly calmed when the lieutenant gave us a last speech.

"Check behind doorways, corners and dark parts of rooms. For the Emperor!" He readied his chainsword and bolt pistol, being near the front of the platoon.

"For the Emperor!" We repeated as we continued to kneel and wait for orders.

We jogged up the stairs as the over watching team moved out the way. I raised my lasgun as I took the first few steps into the xenos strucure. The sound of boots echoed off the carved, ancient walls. The lone path lead down a deep incline of metal stairs with unnatural darkness surrounding us. We could not see the roof behind the blackness. Obelisks formed the path, each holding blasphemous, xenos symbolism. I didn't get much more time to observe my surroundings as we heard shouting from the blackness. Suddenly, the darkness was lit with muzzle flashes of autoguns and lasguns. The heretics screamed their battle cry.

"CHAOS FOREVER!" Lasrounds and bullets ricocheted off the walls, the noise of the firefight being deafening. We began to back up before one of the Tallarn officers charged in with his crackling, curved power sword raised high.

"ARE YOU ALL STILL JUST CRYING KIDS OR ARE YOU MEN AND WOMEN OF THE EMPEROR! CHARGE!" He kept going, some of the Tallarns followed him with their tan robes fluttering behind them. The narrow path made it easy for the heretics to aim. His charge ended when he was hit several times before tumbling down the stairs. The Tallarns stopped their charge. Another officer gave more reasonable orders.

"FALL BACK!" As we hastily retreated back up the stairs while returning fire. I heard a scream of pain and watched as Lance fell forward. He desperately reached for me and I returned with a sturdy grip around his dry wrist. He howled a mixture of cursing and pain as adrenaline fuelled my muscles. I felt a force hit my shoulder. Stinging with the force of a pain I ignored. This was my best mate I was dragging. I wasn't going to let a little gunshot stop me. He had done the same to me at the massacre of the 11th. With my other hand I still handled my lasgun. Continuing to fire into the darkness. When I reached the doorway a series of other hands helped me as Lance was dragged into the light. Kull was calmly reaching into his medic bag as he walked up to my friend. The blood stain showed where Lance had been hit and was starting to soak into his uniform pants. The placement of the wound itself, was a bit humorous.

He had been shot in the right butt cheek.


End file.
